Fates Desire
by Tseer
Summary: A High Warlord finds himself coming out of retirement to put an end to disturbing dreams, but when he finds the girl from his visions things get more complicated than what he had bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

Please note, this is a work in progress. If you've started reading the story already and a new chapter doesn't make sense, check the previous one for an update. This is a really, **really** rough draft with a lot of details missing so I can get the overall outline out for everyone to enjoy.

This story is set in vanilla. You know, back before BC and WoTLK ruined the game? (Not that I'm biased or anything) So there are references to the old PVP ranking-style and PVE rogue Tier 2 Bloodfang Armor.

With that said, critiques are greatly appreciated along with any feedback. Thanks for reading! ^-^

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Darkness, oblivion. Apoch was keenly aware this was a dream, but such a realization meant he could control where the dream went. Something more suited to his taste for battle, or a well fought sparring match. But he had no control over it, couldn't shake the inky depths of nothingness that blinded him. He tried to concentrate, eyes narrowing, but nothing came into focus yet. The sensations were too acute; the dampness of the cool air, the soft click his eyelids made when he blinked and rising pound of his heart.

It made him nervous, to be this out of control.

And then in the distance a small ray of light whispered into existence, its' luminosity neither warming or ominous. But he knew what it meant, and so he went.

With every step the light grew, casting its pale glow over the wet stone steps that led to it until it's light was enough to keep him from stumbling. He could find his way to the phenomenon even if there was no light to begin with by now, the steps cold surfaces chilling his feet until his toes were numb from it.

Closer now the apparition became clear; a mirror floating in the air, the light coming not from it's reflection but from inside it. Apoch moved up the last few steps until he was before it, staring into the silvered depths. But there was no reflection of himself there.

Instead there was a human girl gazing back at him. For a brief moment the two merely stood there, looking at each other in curiosity. She was beautiful by human standards he supposed. A delicate bone structure beneath milky skin and wide, azure eyes that gave her an innocent look. Her white hair that he knew from this same dream previous hung past her shoulder blades was pushed back over her shoulders, the locks catching the prismatic colors around her.

"_I know you."_

She smiled at her own words, raising her hand as if to touch the mirror, the light grew steadily, blinding him from seeing whether her fingertips ever made it at all. "_Apoch."_

"Apoch!"

He snapped awake with a gasp, bolting upright as lightning burned his gaze. Rain exploded against the little hut's roof as if applauding the dream, beckoning an encore, deafening him for a moment as he tried to get his bearings. Outside the thunder finally crackled and rolled by.

"Apoch? Are you alright?"

Another set of blinks and a silhouette came into view. Nedivah, his promised mate. She was sitting beside him holding his arm, steadying him. He shook her off and covered his face with his hands, trying to get the overwhelming points of light out of his gaze. She pulled away and sat at the edge of the bed mat, her silence interrupted by the maddening claps of rain.

"Was I doing it again?"

"Yes. Iscah."

"Iscah." He let his hands drop, slouching over more-so than usual as he rolled the name over his tongue. It was hard to pronounce the I of the name, so he didn't. It was a foreign sound. A foreign name.

"I could hear you from the other room." Her voice trailed off, the emotion choking out her words. He didn't blame her. He looked up from his dull stare at the floor to her, to the crimson eyes like his own. This marked five months, or somewhere close to it he presumed since the dreams had begun. It was hard to swallow the fact it was a dream, the fact the elder shaman of his village had confirmed it wasn't some sort of curse and had eagerly begged to know more of what he saw.

To know what the mirror showed him.

He understood without informing the old one what it meant. It meant the end of a lot of things, perhaps even his own life. So he had ignored it, but all that had done was make them more powerful until they began tearing his reality apart at the seams. Nedivah was proof of that, her bed mat visible from around the doorway in the cramped living room. He looked away miserably and she took the hint, raising herself up to leave him alone once more.

Outside the lightning and thunder met as one, a neighbor's dog barking frantically somewhere nearby before silencing under the yell of its' drowsy master.

He listened quietly as Nedivah rustled about before stilling, listened longer until he could hear her breaths deepen with sleep. The brunt of the storm rolled though until there was only the rain falling delicately, its procession marked with the distant sound of rumbling as it drenched the Barrens parched landscape. Already the breeze had begun to take the perfumed edge of cactus blossoms and damp sandalwood, reminding the sleepy world spring was not quite over yet despite the heat. The air was cooled from the showers still, wafting from the generous windows of his habit to bring goose pimples his clammy skin, but he didn't pay attention to it, mind too far lost in confusion and frustration.

He was losing Nedivah, he was losing respect amongst his brethren, losing himself. Despite Nedivah's best efforts to stifle the questions and rumors the village still had ears. And the damn huts were built too close to one another to hide their arguments or the things he said in his dreams.

To top it all off the elderly shaman, O'zenth, had visited them to discuss their domestic issues and offer advice how to save their relationship by consulting the fates. At least that had been how it had begun.

_O'zenth's bones clattered across the floor, their pattern fate induced and only comprehended by the old troll hunched over them. His face darkened with concentration, withered hand reaching up to wipe away a trickle of drool running down from the edge of his sagging lip. He was hideous with mutilations, but that only gave him more respect amongst the village; remnants of battles lost and won, of victories and defeats that made him a wizened and capable elder. Apoch found himself wondering what the battles must've been like, if they had been easier or harder than his own. Such things were calming to think about rather than the fortune or misfortune they were about to hear._

"_Your lives are no longer entwined, the fates are separating you." Apoch's vision reeled as if he had been struck across the head._

"_A darkness seals your future Apoch, I can no longer look into it." O'zenth's bony finger wobbled towards the skeletal fragment that had fallen at the edge of the heap, perpendicular to all the others, its markings hidden beneath it. He looked up to the couple, to Apoch who was swaying ever so slightly. _

"_You're holding onto that which no longer exists."_

She had moved into the other room that night, when the dreams began again. It was only a matter of time before these dreams broke his engagement to the well-known healer that had fought beside him. What had begun as a powerful team on the fields of battle had grown into something more personal, and after a time they had begun courting due to the convenience of their relationship. He did love her, but he had never felt that thrill in his gut like the way he did in his dreams when Iscah would look at him. He blinked slowly, sitting up a bit and looking out the open window to the skies grey with a dawn hours away.

Had O'zenth ever been wrong in his foresights? Had the bones ever lied? Of course they had, of course he couldn't always be right. Bitterness overwhelmed him, making him gnash his teeth and flex tense muscles to ease the pang of anger rising from his belly.

He rose with purpose now, absolutely silent from years of training and expertise, gathering his weapons, gear and travel necessities and packing them slowly so as not to disturb his love. By the first light of dawn he was ready, Bu'u his raptor bridled and set, waiting patiently for him as he sat beside his sleeping fiancé, watching her remorsefully. He'd make this right. He'd set this straight and put his life back to the way it was.

He reached out and touched her cheek tenderly, recoiling when a pang of guilt made his stomach lurch. The emotion only confused him more, made his anger greater. Instead of waking her like he had first planned he scribbled a note, only able to write down half of what he wanted to. It felt more like a last letter to her rather than an explanation of where he had taken off to.

What better way to end the dreams than kill the girl in the mirror.

Shouldering his pack he left his quiet abode, stopping at the edge of the dozen or so huts that made the sleepy village to watch the clouds take a green-gold hue with the dawn before turning west. Ratchet was a days ride away, which meant he could be in the human territories in three at that pace.

The road was empty save for a few early risers, or young adventure-seekers whose glory was more important than sleep. It made him smile to see them, some nodding to him respectfully when he passed, and he returned the motion. Being in his small village most of the time made him forget how well-known he was outside of it, made him forget the impressive titles he wore fighting for Thrall, for the horde. He sank into the lull of memories that were the battles fought against the alliance to pass the miles, rousing himself from his daydreams long enough to watch an impressive sunrise that managed to pierce between the billowy fluffs of clouds.

"You seek out your dreams, traveler?"

The question caught him by surprise, and he turned to look at an old troll about to pass. The Shaman smiled, leaning heavily on his walking stick to take the weight off a gnarled foot.

"What?"

"You have the look of one who is after his dreams. A copper for your fortune?"

"A gold for your breakfast and silence," he snapped, fishing out the money and tossing it to him. The elderly troll tried to catch it but missed, the metal thudding into the sand near his feet. Apoch sighed, irritated at his own lack of respect, dismounting to pick up the gold and hand it carefully over. The soothsayer smiled toothlessly, snatching his hand before he could pull away, obviously enjoying the off-guard expression the younger of them was wearing suddenly.

"You can't escape your destiny, young master. And when you find what you are looking for you'll not understand anymore than you already do, but I can tell you if you bring me this object of your desire."

Apoch snarled viciously, pulling his arm away with the same ill-will. The fortune-teller laughed gleefully at his reaction, pocketing the gold he had managed to snag from his hand.

"South of Ratchet a small cave in the hills is where I can be found, young master," he added quickly as Apoch turned his back to him and mounted Bu'u once more, kicking his raptor a bit too hard, eager to get away from this man who was telling him things he didn't want to know. "Come find me after you've found what you dream about!"

He stayed off the roads for the rest of the journey.


	2. Chapter 2

"I think you'll be pleased with the festival this year darling. It's been so gloomy, raining for days and now the sun breaks out in time! And here they thought they were going to have to push back the start of it because of the weather. Iscah, are you listening? Iscah? Iscah!"

Iscah snapped out of her trance, looking sheepishly up at the man a dozen or so paces ahead of her. "Sorry," she mumbled, quickening her pace to catch up to him.

"You've been so distracted recently, have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Well, I think-"

"When I can't sleep I go train. It wears me out, but you cannot get as good as I am without it." He laughed boisterously, long strides near impossible for the young mage to keep up with.

The difference from them was night and day even at first glance. Truvien was tall and heavy-built, even more-so with the armor he wore. His hair was a glossy black and eyes a hard shade of brown, skin rough and calloused from his training and adventures.

Iscah was the opposite, petite with long white hair done up in a simple knot to keep it out of her azure eyes when she studied, which was often. She was not skilled in fighting, staying out of battles for the most part. A good book about a grand clash of the empires was more exciting than being in one to her. Why Truvien had taken an interest in the book-worm was beyond her, though the rest of Stormwind knew. Iscah's impressive family was the closest to nobility without being royal blood. Her older sister, a vivacious woman was the heiress to the amassed fortune, and a darling in the social world of Stormwind. She had been Truvien's first choice, but Analda had been married off to another elite worthy of her status, which left her shy, inverted younger sister the only choice left to get Truvien to such ranking. He had staked claims on the mage and she hadn't the spirit nor personality to tell him he wasn't even close to her type.

"Tonight I'll tell you the story about the great dragon I slayed last year. The beast took three days to kill. Three! Nonstop battle between it and I. What a great day that was. It couldn't have done it without your knowledge, Iscah. You told me what things I needed to do to deal it mortal blows."

They turned the corner into the trade district, the streets crowded with people. He pushed through easily, flashing his grin to the many he knew. Iscah struggled to keep up with him, the crowd surging around the two, threatening to carry her off in its current. This was not anywhere she wanted to be, the roar and clatter of people celebrating making her even more reclusive. He headed to the lines of tables filled with patrons enjoying the free drinks and sharing tales, leaving barely enough room at a bench for his date to sit.

"Here, drink up! It'll put hairs on your chest." He pushed a heavy mug of ale in front of her as soon as the tender set it before him, the golden liquid sloshing out of the massive container and all over her though he didn't notice, having heard his name called out by a friend. She yelped and tried to find something to dab the beer out with, jostled nearly off the seat as he stood up to clasp hands with a burly dwarf. The dwarf picked up the mug that Truvian had shoved in front of her and began drinking eagerly as her date began telling some other far-flung adventure.

The two didn't notice when she snuck off, breaking free of the sea of people and taking a deep breath of canal air. Her sky blue dress stank of the beer and her hair smelled of tobacco even in after the few minutes she had been at the festival. If that was his idea of a good time, he could enjoy it.

There was a book on time flux halfway done beckoning her anyways. And if he asked, she could always say she didn't feel good. Which she didn't!

As if to prove this to herself she coughed, happy enough with the sound to have a valid excuse before turning back to the Mage district. The narrow, curved streets were empty save for a rare couple that had stumbled from the crowds to find some quiet place to nurse their new-found emotions towards each other. She gave them a wide berth, not wanting to interrupt their escapades.

The walk back to her quarters she always enjoyed, stone paved streets giving way to a thick carpet of grass that never seemed to wear beneath the feet of those traversing it. The curved path lined with small shops and houses opened to a courtyard of trees and a stone tower where mages spent a good deal of time learning. She stopped to peer up at the architecture in awe for a brief moment before making her way north of it to the dormitories arching along the back wall of the city. The worn door gave way with a push easily, a small squeak from the hinges announcing her arrival though the place was vacant. Skipping past the impressive living room of vaulted ceilings and ancient paintings she took the back stairwell to the private dorm. Although it was a bit more expensive than the shared bedrooms it meant less interruptions and more time to read. Plus the view over the city roofs couldn't be beat.

A robust, older maid bustled by with a grin when she stepped aside in the winding staircase to let her by, and Iscah waved to her.

"Back from the festival so soon?"

"I'm not feeling well, a bit of a cough s'all," she lied rather poorly, but the woman didn't catch it, having taken rather a motherly attitude to the shy girl.

"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. I have some tea downstairs that will help clear that up and soothe your throat. I'll bring it up as soon as I finish the laundry, will that be alright?" She motioned to the linens in her arms and Iscah nodded, cheeks coloring with guilt at the sympathy she was receiving.

Taking the last stairs by two to the fifth floor of the tower she pushed the oaken door open and shut it with her back, not bothering with the lock before crossing the small bedroom to the private bath.

The west tower was an all-girls dormitory, though men were allowed for visits and meetings. No one was there except her and the maid, and Truvian wouldn't notice she was gone for at few hours, if at all. Which meant peace and silence for the rest of the night and a chance to finish the book that was beckoning her.

Drawing a hot bath she sat on the edge of the tub to warm her fingers in the water, chewing on her lip in thought. The time flux studies was not helping her understand her dreams anymore than the last three-dozen books had. And she was too afraid to tell anyone about it for fear of being cast out from the mage society. Imagine, being banned from the library!

Peeling off the drenched clothes she stepped into the steaming water with a heavy sigh, washing the smell of the city off her skin before sinking back, resting her head against the lip of the tub and closing her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well, Truvian had been right about that. The dreams of the troll would wake her up in the middle of the night, and she would spend the rest of the dark hours pouring over more books in search of an answer or antidote.

The lull of the bath relaxed her, drowning her worries and tugging her into a light sleep that began mingling dreams with reality. He sank down beside the bath and she felt his fingers slip across her exposed throat and his thumb trace her jawline as he pressed a kiss against her chin.

"_Did you miss me?"_

"Of course I missed you Apoch," she murmured out loud, catching the troll off guard. He froze, dagger poised over her throat as he stared in shock down at her.

She had spoke in troll.

It had been easy to stealth into the city. With the guards distracted with the drunks and rowdy crowds he barely even had to try. That had been the easy part, but finding the girl had been beyond his comprehension; he had just known. He knew the street, the building, the staircase and doorway, only to find her gone. And now she had come back early, the dorm all but vacant and the opportunity to kill her more than perfect.

He wavered, watching her serene face take on a little smile as she sat up a bit more to let her head crane further back over the lip of the bath, making the killing slice even more easier for him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force his hand to move those last few inches downward, to sink into her flesh.

It took him a moment to realize she had opened her eyes and was staring up into his. Neither moved as both tried to figure out what to make of the situation and how best to deal with it. And then he saw the panic set in her gaze, the water spraying everywhere as she leapt from the bath with a cry, bolting for the door. He caught her easily around the midsection and wrenched her back before she could make it out of the bathroom, cursing inwardly as she teleported out of his grip. The familiar sound of ice crackling stopped him from reaching her again, his feet frozen solid to the ground as she turned to face him breathlessly.

Her hands were glowing blue with the threat of an attack, and he shook his head slightly in response. Iscah hesitated, letting the gathering of energy spell fade before grabbing her dress off the floor to hide her nudity and running for the door again. She made it as far as grabbing the knob before a sharp pain to the back of her head sent shooting stars through her vision, collapsing across his arm as he kept her from hitting the ground.

He stood awkwardly for a moment before taking her to the bed, shoving the pile of books to the floor and laying her down. Returning to the bathroom he grabbed a fresh towel and draped it over her, pulling away to pace the small space of the room as he waited for the stun effects to wear off and make a decision on how best to deal with what had just happened.

Or rather, what wasn't suppose to happen. It had been easy. Too easy. Everything had been perfect and he hadn't taken the chance to kill her. He stabbed himself inwardly, unable to mute the growl that escaped his throat. What the hell was he waiting for, the old gods to strike her down themselves?

"Apoch."

His pacing froze in place, back turned to her. He listened as she sat up and drew the towel around her more securely, listened as she walked over to him before turning his head slightly to cast a belligerent glare at her as she approached.

She stopped to stare up at him in confusion, her heart racing in her chest. It was him, the troll from the dream. The candlelight played across his pale blue skin, making the crimson of his hair that jetted back away from his face in disarrayed spikes and eyes to match an even more brutal shade of red than what she remembered. His slim face was not dotted with the tribal tattoo's she was used to seeing in the pictures and rare sightings she had of his species, his tusks small and arching upwards in semi-circles from the corner of his mouth bone-white. She hadn't realized how tall trolls were until now, but then again she had never been this close to one before. Even slumped over she nearly had to crane her neck to look up into his distrustful stare.

"Why are you here? Why am I having these dreams about you?"

He leaned back away from her, obviously not understanding a word she was saying. He flexed his hand before returning the dagger to its sheath at his hip, a low, menacing growl rumbling from his throat as she moved closer to him.

"I know you without ever having _met_ you and you know me too," she continued, words quickening as she saw the threat in his eyes intensify. "How is this possible!"

He grabbed her hand as she reached up to touch him, voice a ragged snarl of words she couldn't understand. But his painful grip she could as he shoved her backwards, stopping suddenly as his attention snapped to the closed door. He let her go and crouched, moving back, vanishing before her into the shadows as a knock sounded at the door.

"Iscah! Are you there? You snuck away from the festival I see, wrapped up in a book again?"

Iscah stared at the empty space in front of her, the second knock startling her into action. She rushed to the door and barely cracked it open, not leaving an escape route for the troll to try to sneak out of. Truvian was standing there, reeking of alcohol and swaying slightly.

"May I come in?"

"No no, I just got out of the bath an-"

"Oh come now I can close my eyes while you dress, if you tell me I have to anyways," he replied back, pushing the door open and stepping in past her. She hesitated before closing it, a small alarm sounding in the back of her mind at his blunt actions and lack of respect. He took her hand and pulled her against him as she shut the door, his smile foggy.

Apoch glared viciously at the two, unsheathing one of his two daggers in an instant once the man had barged into the room, and now he was touching Iscah. He could feel his blood burning in his veins, roaring for a sacrifice to appease his rage at the sight. There was no attempt to deny the jealousy he was feeling, no excuse for it as he moved closer to the couple. The man leaned down to kiss her, Apoch vaguely aware she had turned her mouth away before his lips could touch her own before the hilt of his blade collided with his skull in a resounding crack. He grabbed a handful of black hair as the man slumped, weapon whipping down to sever the spinal cord between his neck bones stopping as Iscah flung her arm between the dagger and its target. Apoch snarled at her, letting the man drop to the floor to strike her with enough force to send her skidding halfway across the bed. She barely had time to recover before he had pinned her between the mattress and his frame, her struggles ending abruptly as she felt his smooth tusk press up against her cheek and mouth move against her ear. Everything about him she became acutely aware of despite the pain he was inflicting on her wrists, breath caught in her throat at the soft hiss of his foreign words.

"You are _mine._ Mine alone, mine to kill or hurt or touch. _No one else's, Iscah!"_

He recoiled from her and disappeared once again as the door opened, the maid bustling in with a tray of tea and biscuits. She stopped in her tracks as she stared down at the clump of a man on the floor, her mouth dropping as she looked back up to the girl sitting in stunned silence on the bed.

"Are you alright, dear? What happened?"

"I'm fine. He passed out," she fibbed quickly, hoping the dim light of the room hid the knot forming on his head. "Can you call some guards to take him home?"

"Of course, of course. I'll go tell them right away." She set the provisions down and hurried out, leaving Iscah behind to try to figure out what exactly had happened. Without having to check she knew Apoch had snuck out when the maid had entered, leaving her alone and wondering if it was all some strange dream. Taking one glance at her bruised skin she knew it wasn't, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was still holding. Sliding off the bed she stepped over Truvian and pulled a fresh set of clothes out from the armoire, dressing in silence as she waited for the guards.

They came promptly with the maid barking at their backs, having to carry out the knight who was snoring away happily. Iscah could only hope he was drunk enough not to remember what had happened.

"Poor soul, a rather bad night for you," the older woman crooned, smoothing back Iscah's hair from her face before picking up the clothes and towel from the floor after the guards had left. "A good night's rest will help settle you down, you look so frayed around the edges now!"

Iscah tried to interject but the woman continued, so she stayed quiet beneath the attention and let her cluck her way back out the room, promising to go to bed promptly and eat a healthy break fast in the morning before the door finally closed and she was left alone once more.

Fully alone, this time. At least she hoped anyways. For a long time she didn't move from the small chair the maid had left her in near the window, trying to make sense of what had happened. He had tried to kill her? Was that it? Why had he hesitated, or been so brutal and yet, what, attracted to her? Was that what she could call it? Her cheeks burned at the memory of his body against her own, drawing her knees up against her chest and perching her chin atop them. Apoch had seemed a mass of confusion, if not more so than her own.

But more importantly, he wasn't just a dream anymore. He was real. Her heart fluttered a moment before she willed it to calm down, chewing on her nail until she reached the quick and drew blood, wincing painfully. It made even less sense than it had before, but she had a vague realization that she was in fact relieved that he was real.

Shaking her head she unwound from the chair and crawled into the bed, curling up beneath the comforter and staring sleepily out the window. Tomorrow she would talk to the Archmages and seek their counsel on what was happening. There was little doubt books would not be able to tell her what was happening anymore. And of course, all of this relied on her surviving the night if he didn't return to finish what he had obviously had in mind to begin with. Despite the feeling of impending doom she fell asleep quickly.

_She followed the stream northward through the thicket of woods, brushing the verdant green branches away from her path, pausing at a small clearing to survey the scenery. The rains had given life to the area, leaves trembling in the small breeze that managed to weave its way through the forest. Dark earth flecked with shadows and light gave off a strong scent that mingled with the sharp edge of pine and aspen. She turned at a small sound, Apoch stepping out from the foliage and stopping before her. A smile lit her face and she crossed the distance between them, both embracing each other for a moment before he drew away enough to look down at her. _

"_Were you followed?"_

"_No, I was careful like you told me to be."_

_He smiled, cupping her face in his hand and leaning down to touch his lips to her own, the movement cut short at the sound of something impacting flesh. She blinked and stared at the arrow that had buried in his shoulder as he stumbled, both turning to catch sight of the archers with their sights trained on the troll, Truvien ahead of them, his sword out and face contorted with rage._

"_Stop! Wait!"_

_But it was too late, the volley had been released. Iscah flung herself in front of him, the sensation of the arrows piercing her body pure agony. Her scream was lost in the echo of his own._


	3. Chapter 3

"NO!"

Iscah sat up with a heavy gasp, grabbing her stomach where she had felt the first arrow bury itself, but her skin was smooth, whole. It had been another dream. She sat for a moment in relief before glancing out the window. The sun had already risen, but there was very little sound in the dormitory. Everyone who had gone out was probably still sleeping off the effects of the night. Rolling out of bed she replaced the sweat-soaked nightgown with a simple linen dress, washing her face and heading downstairs to the empty mess hall. The chef was awake, though barely, resentful when he had to lift himself long enough to make a half-hearted breakfast for the one student insane enough to be awake after a nonstop night of celebrations.

She ate quietly, but the food felt heavy in her stomach, and so she left the plate only half-eaten on the table before going back upstairs. It was simple enough; he had to be warned of the attack. Did that mean Truvien did remember last night? As if in response to her thoughts someone pounded on the door, Truvien standing there with a set of royal guards behind him. His severe features relaxed a bit at the sight of his mage safe, sparing a glance around the room.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, why would I not be?" She winced inwardly as his gaze snapped back to her, knowing in an instant he had not been drunk enough to forget the little run-in with Apoch.

"The troll? From last night? Did you have that much to drink Iscah? It's amazing you're alive, those monsters are remorseless in their murderous rampages."

Her head was throbbing suddenly, and she reached for her temples, Truvien taking notice of the movement and mistaking it for her lack of stomach for violence or any talk of it. "We'll find him, don't worry Iscah. Most of the bodies are fresh kills not but a few hours old-"

"B-Bodies? Kills? What?"

"Oh, I've said too much," he replied, his voice softening a bit more. "Some higher officials were killed during the early mornings; assassinations. We're positive it was the work of that rogue you saw last night."

"But how could you know?"

"There were," he hesitated, mulling over his next words carefully. Despite her knowledge, she was not wise to the world and Truvien knew this. "Signs left behind to mark the assassins work. That troll has quite a reputation from the last war, though had been dormant for quite some time." One of the guards cleared his throat and Truvien took the hint, squaring his shoulders proudly. "I'll check on you tonight, right now my help has been requested finding the savage beast and bring him to swift justice."

He nodded dutifully and turned, the guards following him back down the cramped stairwell. Iscah listened until they had left the dormitory before flying into action, packing a small bag with clothes and things she suspected she might need on the road before running out the door. She had to find the clearing. She had to find him before Truvien did.

The stables were not far from the dorms, though far enough the sharp scent of the animals could not permeate the living quarters. Most of the mounts were loans to mages in training for when their studies took them abroad, though they went through horses regularly; it was more often than not a horse and master would grow fond of each other and form a bond neither wished to separate. In Iscah's case, it had been an old silvery ram named Earl notorious for biting his riders and having only one pace; his. Carrots and an acceptance to his feisty attitude had warmed him up to her, along with the fact she never really took him out for very long before he was back in his comfortable stall. He mewled a welcome as she ran into sight, the young mage skidding to a halt as she realized she had no carrot or sugar to give him.

Earl was definitely going to bite her this trip.

With a groan she saddled him quickly, his hopeful attitude giving way to flat-out sulking when he realized there were no treats this time.

"I'm sorry old man, I'll make it up to you, ok? I promise."

She patted his cheek and he snorted back grouchily, following her with dragging steps out of the stables and into the grassy streets. Despite his lack of enthusiasm he seemed to sense her anxiety, standing still for once as she swung herself atop him clumsily. He broke into a run with her command, finding his way out of the city without any lead from his rider and out into the manicured forests of Elwynn. The morning was clear and sunny, a strong breeze keeping the summer heat at bay for the time being and sending shivers down Iscah's spine. It was the same day from her dream.

There was an abundance of streams in Elwynn, each a tributary to the river that separated the various territories. It was going to take all morning to find the right one she feared. The first wooden bridge she came across she paused, looking up and down the brook, not sure which way to go or if it was even the right one. It had been upstream in the dream, but the vision had not exactly stated "YOU ARE HERE".

"No good," she muttered, turning the ram upstream after a last moments thought and running him through the shallow water to keep out of the thick trees that would've made riding impossible. It wasn't long before things began to look familiar, and she whispered a thankful prayer before drawing Earl to a stop. He acquiesced all too happily, ripping a mouthful of sweet grass from the edge of the stream to munch on as she hopped off and pushed through the brush into the clearing.

The sight was as real as it had been in her dream, and she took a moment to inhale the pungent odor of earth and forest around her. She exhaled shakily and turned to look around her, the trees barely hiding a path that paralleled the stream. When she turned back north, he was standing in front of her.

Her breath caught at the sight, unable to stop herself from taking a step back. He was in the regalia of a rogue who had been in the dragon brood lair of Blackwing, the onyx and brick-red leather armor coating his lithe form and making him even more intimidating. He sheathed his weapons and pushed back the cowl guising his features to throw a mistrustful scowl at her, satisfied she was alone.

"Cyan'ra g'thoth?"

It was Iscah's turn to frown, shaking her head to let him know she didn't understand. Apoch seemed irritated by this response, pointing to her before folding his hands by his head as if sleeping and tapping his temple to complete the gestures. Her eyes widened in comprehension.

"So you are having dreams about me as well."

He stared dubiously at her. She couldn't help but remember the last dream of him, of how his arms had slipped around her sensuously before he had dipped his mouth down to her own. Her cheeks flushed at the memory and she heard a soft grunt emanate from him, his thoughts obviously following her own.

"Okk man'zlu ekkrah."

Before she could question his strange words his gaze snapped towards the path, the distance between them covered in an instant as he snagged her to him and pulled her into the bushes, his hand going over her mouth to dampen the yelp she had released. Before she could pull his hand away the voices he had heard long before she had drifted in the breeze, and she froze in place.

"I saw a raptor print in these parts earlier today, near my farm. A few of me sheep are missin' too, I bet that bastards mount ate them!"

It was hard to concentrate on what was being said; Iscah realized that she had stopped breathing. He had pulled her down beneath him inside his form to make room for both of them in the brush, his long legs pressing against her hips folded up either side of her so that he could spring for an attack and his chest was crushed against her back, warm even through the armor. But what was more surprising was that he didn't smell. People were always complaining of how bad the horde reeked, yet there was no scent to him at all. Tilting her head up she looked at his face looming above her own, his eyes narrowed upon the troop not far from them. Reaching up gingerly she slipped her fingers across his knuckles and pulled his hand down from her face, the movement taking him by surprise and making him look down into her azure gaze. The urge to feel his mouth against her own was almost unbearable, and he became aware like herself how close they suddenly were. He moved ever so slightly so that his lips were above her own, stopping at the last moment and pulling away from her before both could give way to temptation, attention returning back to the farmer and the two guards he had escorted back.

"We'll search the area thoroughly, until that time, it's best if you seek shelter in Goldshire or Stormwind."

"Aye, I understand. When you kill that bastard, take an extra jab for me!"

There was a small chuckle given in response before the trio moved away noisily again, and Apoch pulled further away from her before stepping out of the bush. Iscah couldn't help but feel crestfallen and silly for the brief moment of attraction she had felt, attempting to follow him and snagging her hair on a branch.

When she finally untangled herself from the bush and looked up he was gone again. She exhaled a small curse, balling her fists up furiously. Stupid rogues!

Defeated she turned to the stream and Earl standing in the running water still, blinking when she saw a black raptor with cream colored stripes standing next to the ram indifferently. Apoch tugged the predators reigns affectionately before looking back to her, shifting uneasily. He turned away and mounted with ease, his leathers creaking audibly with the movement. Sparing one last glance to her he steered his mount downstream, south towards Duskwood.

For a moment she simply watched him before finally hurrying to the old ram, attempting to mount twice before finally settling in the dwarven saddle and pressing the elderly ride south as well at a pace to catch the troll. He pulled to a stop and looked back at her in surprise when she came into view.

"I want to come with you, we both are having these dreams, there has to be a reason, right?"

He blinked.

"I want to know why."

His raptor shifted slightly, a low rumble escaping its throat as a rabbit neared too close at the brooks bank, oblivious to the stretch of silence between human and troll. He finally shook his head and continued, shooting a venomous glare back at her when she followed. She clenched her jaw and stuck out her chin stubbornly, if only to show him she wouldn't be shaken that easily.

Apoch hissed at her furiously, but she ignored it, falling in step behind him. Snarling he kicked his mount into a full-out run and she followed suite, his frustration at the situation only growing when he realized her ram could keep up with this pace. They spanned the forests of Elwynn like this, Iscah all but tumbling out of the saddle when he reigned in his mount near dusk at the edge of the river separating the ominous banks of Duskwood from the heart of the human empire.

Every part of her ached from the journey, body used to conforming to chairs rather than jostling saddles. He dismounted as well though without a wince, pulling the reigns in front of him and wading into the water, raptor in tow and both daggers held up out of the rivers currents to keep them dry. She scrambled back to her feet and dragged Earl with her, crossing as well though ending up further downstream than he had. By the time she had recovered her breath and remounted she had lost sight of him once more, her irritation only growing as she tried to figure out where in the murky depths of Duskwood forest he had run into. Hesitating only a moment, she plunged into the misty, twisted realm.

The stories of Duskwood haunted children's dreams at night. And, for more, adults as well that had suffered the lands curse. Rumors of the undead tainting the lands had not gone unheard, cries from the lone town at the center of the territory answered by few though pleas to Stormwind had not been answered.

The cold mist encased her, and it was only moments before she was lost, the fear tinging the back of her mind that she might not be able to find him again being slowly replaced with the realization she didn't even know how to get back to the river any longer. Earl drew to a halt, the whites of his eyes visible as he peered around them, the young mage slowly becoming aware of what her steed had long already known.

They were being hunted.

Her blood turned ice as she turned to see a pair of yellow eyes staring out from the mist, more joining the set as a pack of wolves rose from the darkness. Earl needed no coaxing this time, bolting into a gallop ahead and nearly throwing his rider off. She lost hold of the reigns and clutched the saddle in terror, drawing her leg up as a pair of heavy jaws snapped hungrily at her foot. Earl slammed his impressive horns into the wolf that had drawn too close to his head, a yelp a response to the attack. Though the predator stumbled, he was replaced by more pack mates eager for a kill. Earl jumped down a small ledge and they followed suit easily, Iscah jolted mercilessly as the ram landed at a dead run still.

She saw the two wolves waiting ahead before Earl did, crying out an alarm but unable to steer him away from the trap without the reigns. He was too occupied with fending off attacks at his haunches he didn't see the attack until it was upon him, skidding to a halt and rearing up to keep his soft throat out of the massive jowels. The sudden movement caught Iscah off-balance, throwing her back and slamming her to the ground as he leapt nimbly over the wolves and continued ahead, vanishing into the growing darkness with half the pack at his heels.

The others turned their attention to the human.

She struggled to her feet as they surrounded her slowly, reveling in the overpowering scent of her terror. One, a canine larger than his comrades circled closer to her, long fangs glistening with saliva bared. Iscah readied for the attack, a whisper of a spell already on her lips.

It never got a chance to strike the wolf. In mid-leap a blurred figure launched itself from the side, Apoch burying the blade between the dog's ribs and finding its mark with fatal accuracy. The alpha male howled in pain, his comrades shaken by the attack but turning to aid their leader nonetheless. Apoch turned on them, dodging the snaps of fangs and dealing out blows of his own that left throats slashed open and hearts pierced. What wasn't a killing blow the poisons coating his blades finished, the wounded animals making it only a few steps before collapsing in death-fits.

Iscah's breath rattled in her chest, sinking down to her knees in shock as the troll turned to examine her carefully. Satisfied she was unscathed he turned to the alpha's corpse, cutting out the heart and ripping a mouthful of the organ off to eat savagely. She watched in shock as he proceeded to eat the organ raw, a smug look on his face before he wiped the blood from his hands off on the pelt of the beast and walked past her, gathering a handful of branches up to begin a fire with.

The raptor moved into sight moments later, talons and mouth covered in fresh blood. Apoch chortled happily, muttering something to his mount in his strange tongue as he started a fire and tossed on a few cut chunks of wolf meat into the flames.

It took a moment to put together what had just happened, and what was happening. He had left her, again, only to come back, again, and save her from a pack of wolves. Before she could figure out how to respond the meat was cooked and he was holding a piece out to her.

"Eat, the bodies and fire will keep the rest of the pack at bay. You haven't eaten all day, mage. You need your strength for greater adventures now."

She stared at him, not comprehending his words, but took the proffered offerings nonetheless, devouring the portion when the first taste made her realize it had been almost a full day since she had anything substantial to eat. By the time she had finished dinner he had laid a bedroll out and released the raptor from saddle and bridle. Patting his steed dismissively he cut down fresh boughs from the nearby tree and built another bed for himself to sleep on, stretching out on the cushy makeshift and glancing over at her.

Iscah glanced at the bed curiously, understanding what he was offering but too shy to take the offer. He rumbled something towards her and she took the hint, whispering her thanks back to him hoarsely before collapsing on the wool spread. Every part of her ached, and her dress was starched in sweat. With her ram gone, so were her packs of clothing and sleeping sack. He had realized this before her and made accommodations. Her attention drifted to him sleepily, surprised at how exhausted she felt.

The firelight was playing over the rogues stretched form teasingly, his arms folded behind his head as he watched the flames with a hint of alertness to what he was hearing rather than seeing. As sleep finally caught her she saw his gaze move from the fire to her.


	4. Chapter 4

When she woke again, it was to the sound of a lone bird's mournful song in the grey dawn. She glanced over to the raptor, snapping awake when Apoch was nowhere to be seen. The branches he had used to sleep on were gone, along with the fire and wolf corpses. Outside of the sleeping roll and snoring raptor the campsite looked completely untouched.

"Apoch?"

"Shh," was the response as he stepped out of the shadows with a small handful of mushrooms and edible roots, his raptor lifting his head to yawn impressively before rolling over. The troll leaned down to place a part of the meager breakfast beside her before continuing over to the snoring beast, sitting heavily on its exposed side and getting a gurgled snarl in response. He grinned wryly, eating the food in silence, not bothering to look at her. Suddenly self-conscious Iscah ate her breakfast in the same fashion, trying not to blanch at the bitter flavor the roots had until she realized eating the mushrooms with them neutralized their flavor. It wasn't eggs and bacon, but anything was better than nothing she mused. Finishing her portion she rose, biting back a cry of pain as her muscles protested the movement before going to find somewhere a bit more private. When she came back, the bedroll was gone and the small clearing looked as if they had never been there. Apoch jerked his head in a direction and moved that way, threading them through the woods as if he knew where they were going. Iscah followed, sore muscles warming quickly as she struggled through the undergrowth to keep up with the two expert travelers.

After a few hours they finally came to a clearing, the muted sunshine surprising her as they stepped out of the thicket. Apoch looked around warily before moving forward, a road hidden by the grey grass popping into view. Iscah nearly cried with relief, glad to be on a flat path with no gnarly roots to stumble over or branches to scrape herself on. The troll moved to a sign post planted at the edge of the woods next to the road, and pointed east before looking at her.

Iscah looked at the sign as well. "Darkshire."

The troll nodded, and turned the opposite direction. Iscah blinked, turning to follow him.

"Im, IM!!"

He dropped the reigns and wheeled on her, his patience obviously at an end. Jabbing his finger towards the direction of Darkshire he glared at her, and Iscah glared back.

"No! I'm coming with you!"

"So worl!" He pushed her away, the girl stumbling but recovering and attempting to walk around him. He blocked her path, a warning growl given but she stubbornly tried to squirm past him. Apoch snagged her arm and jerked her around, half dragging her down the road towards the direction of the town. Iscah screeched in frustration and tried to pull away, the troll using her own movement against her by turning her and letting her go. She tried to find her balance but fell, catching herself on her wrist with a cry before sitting up, dirt leaving a trail of brown down the side of her dress at her hip. He hesitated, some of the anger doused by her miserable state before he shook his head again and pointed towards Darkshire.

"So worl," he repeated, gentler this time. Iscah shook her head viciously, not looking at him to hide her tears. He sighed and crouched down next to her, taking her wrist she was cradling and looking it over seriously before massaging the joint. She took a sharp breath at the pain, glaring at him despite herself, but slowly the ache went away beneath this fingers and he let her hand go before meeting her gaze.

This human was obviously not going to give up. Already she had proven herself inept in every sense of the word except in stubbornness. If he left her out here, she'd be dead within hours. Blanching he reached up and scratched at his scalp, looking down the road that led to the untamed rainforest of stranglethorn vale. He knew she was just as lost for answers as he was, knew that there had been no closure in finding her. In the dead of the night previous he had watched her sleep, watched color rise to her cheeks as she said his name in her dreams. Being near each other had not made the dreams go away, in fact it seemed to have the opposite effect. What had started off as just unnatural attraction was turning into desire in his own dreams, and it was hard to tell what was real and what was in his mind anymore. He shook his head and looked back at her, aware of the wide azure pools locked onto him.

There was only one person who might be able to offer them answers, but he had no clue how sane that old man on the road had been to begin with.

He took her hands and helped her back onto her feet, turning towards his raptor and pulling his head around by his reigns before murmuring to the beast. Bu'u hissed in response and he let him go, looking back to the girl and pointing in the direction opposite of the alliance town.

"Go, Bu'u will protect you."

She walked up to him and he placed the raptors reigns in her hand, wrapping her delicate fingers around the leather. Bu'u moved forward and Iscah was pulled along, sparing a glance back to him before turning to follow the mount.

If she was going to travel with him, they'd need supplies. He vanished into the woods, setting a brutal pace in the direction of the town he had tried to make her go to.

Iscah woke in the middle of the night and half sat up, straining to hear what she thought were bells tolling an alarm far to the distant northeast. An owl hooted in a nearby tree and she relaxed, accepting the sound as a figment of her imagination. Beside her the raptor snorted and flinched, a soft chomping noise coming from its maw as it dreamed of dancing leg drums and slabs of meat.

They had traveled the day alone together, the raptor weaving through the forest to clear any threats out of the girls path as they headed further south. Iscah had managed to enjoy the walk, identifying various plants and brush that had medicinal if not magical properties. Occasionally she'd leave the road when a particular species would pique her interest, and she'd pick or pull them to carry with her on the journey. Bu'u never let her roam very far though, popping out of the underbrush to hiss a warning at her and herd her back onto the well-worn path before vanishing again. As the sun had set and the grey of the forest grew dimmer, the raptor had appeared back in front of her, chirping a greeting before moving slowly off the road and waiting for her to follow. They came to a small area hidden well away from the main path, and Bu'u stopped and waited patiently as she untied the pack bags the troll had left strapped to him. She rummaged through the satchels, finding flint and tinder, along with some strips of dried meat that could be her dinner. It took twenty minutes and a heated one-sided debate with a raptor who watched on with indifference to the mages struggles before she finally gave up and blew the small stack of twigs to smithereens with a conjured fireball to make them a fire. It had died sometime during the evening, and the raptor had decided snuggling next to the human was warmer than sleeping alone. Iscah snuffled back down against the animals side, and fell asleep again until the morning birds woke her up a few hours later.

Apoch was still missing, but the raptor seemed unfazed by this. Iscah tried to scatter the cold embers around and make it look like no one had been there, but instead she made it look like there had been a scuffle instead. She winced at her own inabilities before Bu'u nudged her expectantly, leading her back to the trail. He brought her various animal corpses for the rest of the morning, but she had no idea what to do with them. With a sigh she ignored the growing pains of hunger and tossed the carcasses back to the waiting raptor who realized any food he would bring the girl would become lunch, continuing onward without really paying attention that the raptor seemed to be bringing her more animals more often.

She had no idea why she was following him, only knew it felt right to be near the troll. Her dreams had taken a turn for the worse, bringing aches and desires she had never known she had to light and throwing her whole balance off. It was one thing to have a little girlish crush on a fellow student, but a troll? A murderer? It was utterly wrong.

A low growl broke her out of her musing, and she stopped as a tawny lion prowled out of the undergrowth. Violet hues locked onto her, and the creature crouched, tail whipping venomously as it readied to attack the lone human.

Bu'u leapt from the brush, skidding to a halt in front of Iscah to block the cats attack, hissing slowly as he flexed his talons in preparation of the fight to come. The lion's ears flattened against its skull, baring massive canines at the raptor.

"I wouldn't do that, Druid," Apoch growled in warning, stepping onto the trail next to his mount. The cat recoiled, form shifting so that it sat and looked at the troll ladened with two full bags warily.

"A troll defending a human? Not a sight you see everyday," she purred, tail still tapping against the ground in an irritated display.

Apoch chuckled, letting the bags fall and stretching out his back casually.

"She's worth a lot more alive. Apparently there's a large price for her capture, something about her being a bargaining chip." Apoch shrugged nonchalant, glancing at the human with disgust.

"I find it interesting if she's your captive she's not in bonds."

"I'm in alliance territory, you don't think they'd notice that?"

"I suppose," the druid replied, beginning to doubt her first assessment of the situation.

"Besides, what are you doing here?"

"Passing through," she responded curtly, rising smoothly and circling the three. She hissed softly at the human before prowling onward.

Apoch waited until the druid was out of sight, exhaling the tension he had been hiding during the encounter. That could've gone a lot worse, he supposed. He hadn't expected to run into any of his allies until well into the rainforest.

Iscah leapt onto him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug before babbling in her strange language. He snarled in response, peeling her off and turning to the two bags he had dropped.

He pulled out bread and cheese, tearing a hunk off the loaf and handing it to Iscah before ripping off a mouthful of his own. Iscah nibbled hers as reservedly as possible, but by the end she had eaten the whole thing. The troll handed her half of the hard cheese before turning and beginning their walk again, Iscah falling in step.

It was hard to ignore the warmth running up his spine her greeting had caused.


	5. Chapter 5

It took two days to reach the verdant forests of the south, another five to pass through them to the southernmost tip of the peninsula where the town of Booty Bay resided. The town was built in a protected cove where ships could weather the most furious storms. At its heart Booty Bay was a pirate's town, built of driftwood and plank boards along the edge of the inner cliff. This place criminals mingled with commoners and adventurers with scholars, but always there was a low tension in the town. Horde and Alliance races alike resided or passed through the rickety constructions, boons not forgotten and many keen on revenge. There were guards there to keep the peace, but nothing a bribe or bottle of booze couldn't keep busy enough for one or two throats to be slit.

Apoch lead Iscah through the cave entrance into the town, stopping and pointing at the inn opposite them of the cove before stepping into the throngs of travelers and vanishing. Iscah knew it was dangerous for them to be seen together, but it was even more dangerous to be out here alone. She shifted uneasily, dropping her gaze to the ground as a massive tauren cast a baleful glare her way as he walked by. When she looked back up she caught sight of Apoch further away, and with a deep breath stepped into the crowded fairway that arched around the small town.

Soon her fear was replaced with curiosity, vendors crying their wares, some of them exotic and some things Iscah had never seen. A Goblin called to her, beckoning her over and ushering her over to his shops entrance.

"You look like you could use some clothes, traveler."

"Is it that obvious?" She responded with a shy smile, modeling her dress that was stained with green and brown dirt from their journey.

Apoch reappeared at her side, glancing at the clothes before nodding to the merchant. They spoke briefly to each other, and Apoch handed him a small sack that looked like it was quite heavy despite its size. The Goblin blinked but quickly his surprise was smothered by greed. The troll wandered off again without so much as a glance towards Iscah.

"Business is good," the vendor murmured, grinning to the girl as his beady eyes roamed her lean figure unabashed. Iscah recoiled but he grabbed her arm and dragged her inside, circling her as his fingers poked and prodded, measuring and muttering notes to himself. He quickly gathered a few outfits for her and folded them neatly before stuffing them in a leather bag, handing it to her with a satisfied nod.

"Shouldn't I er.. try them on?"

"In what dressing room?" He retorted, eyebrows raising. "You're not my type but I'm not about to turn you away if you want to undress here. It might bring a few customers in." He laughed when her cheeks flushed with color. "I've been doing this longer than you've been alive, darling. The clothes will fit. Now get lost."

Iscah bobbed a little curtsy before rushing out of the store and taking a deep odiferous breath. Apoch was leaning against another shop's exterior waiting for her, and when she spotted him he turned and continued on towards the inn, stopping occasionally at certain vendors to give them a list of supplies. By the time they reached the inn the sun was setting. Iscah wandered in to the main room and startled as a woman tapped her shoulder and stuck a key out towards her rudely.

"Fourth door on the left upstairs. No spells, and no fighting in here or you'll pay with your life."

Iscah stammered a reply, but the girl had already wandered off. Apoch had sat down at the bar, a pint of beer and bowl of fish stew holding his attention as she walked by and went upstairs.

She found the room and opened the door, peering around at the Spartan furnishings of two small cots and a small table between them with a half-melted candle flickering morosely. A thick-set man trudged into the room carrying a metal bathtub and set it down in her room without so much as a greeting to her.

"The maid'll bring some hot water in a bit. You want anything else?"

"Food?" She ventured softly, the man jerking his head in a nod.

It wasn't long before the maid returned with a few gallons of scalding hot water and a tray full of mead and stew, setting it down and leaving the mage to clean the weeks worth of dirt and sweat off her skin. She dried off and tucked into the food, sitting on the edge of one of the beds and staring blankly at the candle. Exhaustion finally came with her stomach full, and she set the empty bowl on the floor before rolling over and curling up on the cot, asleep in moments.

Apoch broke into the room hours later when he was sure she'd be sleeping, shutting the door silently before padding over to the human. Iscah was curled up in a fetal position on the cot, breaths deep and peaceful. Her tiny form was hidden beneath the covers, but his eyes shifted unconsciously to her outline. A deep desire to feel her skin against his hands caused him to reach down, but he drew short suddenly, shocked by the emotion he had tried so hard to ignore. Clenching his fists he withdrew, escaping the tiny room to take to the near empty moorings of the town. He made his way swiftly to a back alley, the banter of female voices talking and laughing breaking the swirling sound of the water below.

Stepping out of the shadows he watched the half dozen prostitutes shy in panic, save for one. A female troll with a pipe she was lazily smoking on, her coal black eyes sparkling with amusement at the high warlord.

"Long time no see, Apoch. And here I be tinking you forgot all about Imi."

"Haven't been this way for the longest, or I would've stopped by," he replied back smoothly, though he raked his hand through his hair. Imi cocked her head to the side, all too aware of Apoch's body language. Through the years he had been a well-paying client of hers, and despite the scars she bore from their escapades she had grown fond of him.

"To the Inn?"

"No," he exhaled, looking around for somewhere more private. Imi took the hint and tapped her pipe empty, setting it down and walking slowly further away from the little flock. Apoch followed in silence, stopping before her when she turned to study him in the faded light.

"Imi never seen you look so guilty."

"The hell do you know," he replied gruffly, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her up against the wall. He kissed her hard, though balked when she returned the rough embrace, the feel of her hands around his waist not right. They weren't delicate enough, they weren't what he needed to cull the fire that felt like it was burning his blood to ash. Exhaling in frustration he backed away from her, looking to the other women. There was a human with the group, though robust and greasy. Imi followed his gaze, knowing better than to question his strange behavior. She called out to the woman who looked over expectantly, switching from Zandali to the guttural, obscene language of the human race. Apoch blinked, touching her shoulder to interrupt.

"You speak the human's language?"

"Imi speak lots of languages. More clients dat way," she replied, watching his expression change.

"I'll pay you the normal rate, but I need your help in a different way."

Imi gave a nod, and Apoch motioned for her to follow, heading back to the inn and up to the room. He didn't bother with a quiet entrance, Iscah all but tumbling out of bed as he slammed the door shut behind them. Imi whispered an incantation and the candle flared to life, making Iscah wince as the light blinded her momentarily.

"Oh Apoch, she beautiful. But Imi be tinking you can't keep her."

"Keep her? I can't get rid of her," he muttered, pacing the open floor space as Imi went to the girl and crouched before her. She framed her chin in her hand, turning her face to study her before looking back to him.

"So the High Warlord finally found love."

He snorted derisively, shooting the whore a venomous glare. "You're out of your mind if you think I could even be attracted to _that_."

Imi didn't respond for a long time, instead simply watched as he paced back and forth, his eyes flicking towards the girl occasionally before realizing it and looking away. To anyone else the signs weren't there, but to Imi whose job was everything to do with attraction it was plainly obvious. She turned and smiled in delight at the brilliant violet eyes that were wide and meeting hers curiously.

"What ya name?"

"Iscah," she mumbled, biting her lower lip shyly. Imi let go of her chin though stayed crouched next to her bed.

"I be Imi, Apoch want me to talk for him. Dat be ok with you?"

"Yes. Thank you for offering."

"It be no problem."

"Before we start this," Apoch interjected. "Not a word about this to anyone else. I've known you for fifteen years Imi, but that won't save you if you utter a thing about this."

"You know the only thing Imi ever does with her mouth," she replied back smoothly, leering at him. He actually looked flustered for a moment as if shamed to be speaking of such things in front of the girl. Definitely in love, Imi thought to herself. He took a slow breath and began the questions.

"When you dreams start happenon?"

"Six months ago?"

"Of a mirror?"

"Yes, the mirror showing him."

"But dey changing lately yeah?"

Iscah's cheeks darkened, nodding in response. Apoch looked away as well, the two avoiding eye contact as Imi looked between them. That explained his desperation in the alley.

"Do you know why you be havin dees dreams?"

"Not a clue. I've spent hours in the lib-"

"Slowly, Imi not be good at changing words fast."

"Sorry. I've tried to find anything about it in the library but was too afraid to ask anyone for help on this matter."

"You sayin dere be noting in dem libraries about dis? At all?"

"To go through all the books would take a lifetime. I had begun where the most obvious answers would have been and was combing through the books from there, but there's only so much a single person can accomplish."

"How 'bout historic records?"

Iscah shrugged. "Our writings on troll history is scattered. There are thousands of years missing at some points. Most of what we have only goes back a few eons from when the night elves created a written language."

"Dere any documentation from anoder race mayhaps?"

Imi raised her brows expectantly, watching as the girl choked on her reply for a moment.

"There was a night elf story about soulmates having the ability to communicate in dreams. It's more fairy-tales than anything proven," she finally mumbled. Imi thought this over before Apoch grunted impatiently, waiting for her to translate.

"She got no idea either, dem books give no answers."

He exhaled a frustrated sigh, turning away from the two. There had to be a logical explanation to this madness. Maybe something so simplistic as a curse. When he brought this idea up the girl shook her head again, looking perturbed at such a notion.

"I might not know a thousand ways to kill a man but I'm not dense. I checked every simple and had begun to look at more complex, archaic spells, but this is something that goes even beyond a sorcerers skills."

"So dere no chance you could have accidentally do something wrong when doing voodoo?"

"I am still studying theory, not practicing it. Students aren't allowed to begin conjurations until the end of the second year."

Apoch gave her a mocking face at her response, Imi rising when he made to leave the room to follow. The troll woman stopped in the doorway, looking back to the young mage who was hugging herself miserably.

"If I were you, I go home, 'Scah. Dis troll be bad, bad news."

"Thank you for the words of advice," she replied with a weak smile. "But I have a feeling if I don't see this through those dreams will never go away."

Imi hesitated, nodding in response before closing the door and following Apoch back down to the wharfs. He handed over a small purse heavy with gold without looking at her, stopping at the shadows edge of the alleyway.

"Apoch, be careful with dat one. Imi tink you might regret hurting her."

"I have yet to do anything I regret, Imi."

"Spoken like a true ass," Imi chided back, the two sharing a smile at each other. She reached up and patted his arm, turning back to go to the group of women.

"I'll see you soon."

Imi stopped, turning to look into the darkness that was empty. "No," she murmured, "Imi be thinking she won't be seeing you ever again."

* * *

"Iscah."

Iscah blinked awake, the darkness of the room offset by a thin sliver of moonlight streaming in from the meager window. Apoch had broken back in at some point, and he was stretched out across the other bed. He murmured her name again, writhing slightly.

Iscah sat up and watched him for a moment as he twitched, his face tense with stress from wherever his dreams were taking him. Slipping off the bed she moved over to him, studying his features curiously. She reached up and touched his shoulder tentatively as he began to flinch again, his form relaxing almost instantly beneath her fingertips. Her touch roamed over his collarbone and up the side of his exposed neck, fingers wending through his wiry hair to feel its texture before she cupped the side of his face with her palm. Apoch made a small sound and turned his head further against her hand and she leaned closer to him.

Emboldened by his responses she carefully pressed her lips against his chin, his warm breath tickling her cheek. He shifted beneath her then, arms slipping around her figure and pulling her into the bed with him, a relieved sigh escaping him before he stilled. Iscah blinked a few times before relaxing, nestled against him and breathing in his fresh-washed scent.

When she woke up again the first thing that greeted her sight was the troll sitting on the opposite bed watching her with an unreadable stare. She sat up slowly, drowsiness replaced with embarrassment as she remembered what she had done in the middle of the night.

"I'm sorry, I was half asleep and wasn't thinking," she mumbled, looking away from his increasingly irritated stare. He growled something and stood, tossing her pack onto her bed before walking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

She exhaled a little sob, somehow shamed by it all before rubbing her eyes dry and dressing into an apprentice robe.

He was outside the inn checking Bu'u over meticulously before they walked to the docks together, watching the fishermen returning with their night-caught catch. A sleek vessel was moored at the end of the pier, a small line of passengers boarding at its starboard side. Apoch tossed the coin to the shipmate and walked past him, Iscah making to do the same as well though he barred her path.

"Hey, it's a goldpiece for passage."

"I-" she looked towards Apoch and he turned to glance at her, patting the side of his leg. Iscah explored the pockets of her dull robes and found a`coin in the same side he had motioned to.

"Have it ready next time, you're holding us up."

She nodded and moved past him, listening as he made a last call and the crew began to spring into action. Within moments they had pulled away from the dock and were moving out into the bay.

It was three days sail to the port of Ratchet, but in that time the young girl learned many things. First and foremost, that she had no legs for the open waters.

The second was that even though the crew laughed mercilessly as she emptied her stomach over the railing they did have pity enough to give her a cupful of the worst tasting liquid that settled her vertigo almost instantly.

"First time out to sea? You'll get used to it soon enough, but if not ask a goblin to hawk a loogie into a cup and drink that swig down."

"A-.. a what!"

"Jokes! Jokes!" The barrel-chested man laughed, thumping her between the shoulders with meaty hand and nearly flattening her in the process. "Earthroot will help cu-"

"That was earthroot? It tasted foul!"

"Aye, earthroot was the main ingredient. What did you expect- crumpets?"

He crooked a pinky at her and guffawed again at her shocked expression that melted into a lopsided grin. The sailor did have a crude charm to him, and she couldn't help but smile fully when he turned to meander back to his duties. His line of movement passed Apoch, and the look on the trolls face made Iscah's smile die instantly.

She didn't see the sailor again the rest of the trip, and the crew assumed their only horde passenger had something to do with it. They hadn't linked the mage to the troll, and instead of staying away from the cursed girl they took over guarding her from the rogue.

Iscah found herself a guest of the captain on the poop-deck because of this, the old goblin rambling for hours with stories of his life at sea that kept the mage enraptured.

"That was when we knew the woman was a lusty mermaid and not a- curse the mother's teat!" He snapped suddenly, startling Iscah.

"Avast! Tighten the sheets! Milk that weak wind for all its worth! Damnit!"

It wasn't until the captain had pointed it out that Iscah noticed the winds had faltered from their cheerful gusts. She chewed her bottom lip shyly before heading down to the deck, edging around the sudden flurry of activity the captain's curses had manifested. Settling down at the bow of the ship she looked over the navy blue waters, calming her mind with ease and reaching out curiously.

The winds were there but the constant stream that had been aiding their progress had shifted north, oblivious to the effect it was having on the unknown ship. She called out softly to them, but her voice was lost in the flurry of sound the wind lived in. Hitching her voice louder she felt its attention shift to her, and she exhaled the spell she had only read.

The winds turned, delving south and hitting the sails full power, the material ballooning as the masts cracked with the sudden pressure on the tight sails. The captain was screaming new orders that were lost above the wailing winds, but the crew knew what to do immediately, and the groans of the timber fell away as the pressure was released.

"YOU! LASS! GET UP HERE!"

Iscah cringed and trudged back to her post, trying to come up with an apology that would be worth enough against the infuriated man.

"The next time yer about to pull a typhoon out of yer ass, you best give us a warning!"

"Sor-"

"Shut yer hole! Shiver me timbers, I haven't had me heart hitch that high since Miss Belle serviced my-"

"Captain!" A random voice from the crew called out.

"What? Oh," he stammered, realizing the person he was addressing was a lady, and a rather flustered one at that.

"Good job. But see here, magey lass; don't be expecting no pay for that act."

When they made berth the next morning the captain gave her a parting payment of a small flask of sweet rose wine and dried figs that had been stashed away, Apoch meeting her at the end of the wharf with Bu'u in tow. He stopped to speak with some patrons as Iscah sat down in the shade of a palm tree to enjoy her exotic lunch.

"I be lookin' for a soothsayer."

"Only one in these parts, an old, crazy troll by the name of Triki that lives in the caves off the Merchant Coast."

"Da pirates not mess wit him?" Apoch asked curiously. Everyone knew the Merchant Coast was home to most of the pirates of Kalimdor. The Goblin shrugged.

"Rumor has it he hexed four of their crew into toads and threatened to turn a Captain into a woman if he didn't pay him a tribute. They supply the looney troll with supplies and stay well clear of him."

"I say dat would do it," Apoch replied, scratching his jaw idly as he smirked. It was a good thing the goblin couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. "Thanks for de help mon." He handed him a piece of gold and moved off, heading out of the small colony and following the beach south.

Iscah caught up with his slow pace and they walked the path together, crossing into a pirate's camp. They were greeted with eager eyes, but the criminals quickly backed off when they caught sight of the troll and his weapons. Apoch grinned, baring his fangs to them before pulling his cowl over his features and continuing forward. They crossed other encampments, but were greeted with the same silence and berth. It was early evening before they finally stopped to eat, the troll scowling as he unpacked the dried meat and handed her a piece.

All throughout the day he hadn't seen a cave, nor any trace of the old troll. Perhaps the goblin had been mistaken, or that it had all been rumors. Perhaps he should go ask the pirates.

"They'll just lead you to the pit-trap they have set up to catch hero's like yourself," a gravelly voice responded, Apoch up in an instant with both daggers drawn. The elder troll cackled maniacally at his reaction before looking at Iscah.

"Oh, so you found her. She's prettier than I expected." He leaned on his staff heavily near her, reaching out to touch her snowy hair. Iscah blinked, not sure what to make of the other troll. Apoch pulled his cowl down and scratched at his hair nervously.

"So you seem to know a lot."

"What gave you that idea?" He looked back up at Apoch, grinning again.

"I want answers."

"Sure, sure. But how about some dinner first? The pirates brought me up some nice mutton and a case of dwarven stout."

He turned from them and hobbled up the grassy incline, Iscah edging up to the elder and offering her help at his elbow when he teetered. Triki patted her head again and took her help, leading them up into the deep canyons cut and smoothed by eons of rain seasons.

Apoch watched the two warily, disliking how at ease the elder seemed. He looked down at the dried rations before shoving them back into the bag and shouldering the pack with a sigh. What damage could one hot meal do, anyways?


	6. Chapter 6

He knew he had been drugged.

The cave that had been turned into a primitive but warm home blurred, the fire becoming the quintessence of lifes struggle as it licked towards the ceiling hopelessly before that too, faded into darkness.

The last thing he remembered is the feeling of the human girl collapsing against him, drugged as well and the soft chants of the old troll shaman that inhabited the cave.

The dreams were induced from the substance Triki had laced the beer with he presumed as well. In the dream, Iscah was facing him seated, smiling up into his crimson hues peacefully.

He took her hand in his own and pressed his palm against hers at Triki's command, the shaman reaching between the couple to bind their grip together with cords of aromatic herbs and other enigmatic ingredients. The pain was instantaneous, and he saw it catch her in surprise, her azure eyes widening as she tried to jerk her wounded arm away though he didn't let go. The brand burnt deeper until her lashes glittered with tears but she didn't cry out, looking back to him for support.

"Let all who look upon you know now, these two are mates for life, however long the gods deem life to be for them," the old shaman concluded, voice rattling in his chest tiredly.

Apoch smiled, taking his free hand to cup her face and draw her lips against his own; a rather graceful maneuver despite the small tusks arching up from the corners of his mouth.

"_I love you..."_

The frail, trembling glow of the coals were the first thing that greeted him as he gained consciousness once more. Vertigo the drugs induced made recovery a slow process, so he laid where he was, coming back to his senses and his surroundings one thing at a time.

The first realization was that Iscah was tucked alongside and slightly underneath his lithe body, his arm stretching across her and hand resting below hers.

Bound with ceremonial cord to her own.

The old shaman's arcane chants began to take form and though he didn't understand the words, he knew their ancient meanings. With every fiber in his body he willed himself to sit up, swaying dangerously as his vision blacked in and out.

"_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?!"_

The magnitude of his roar astounded even himself, shaking the old man from his trance to blink yellowed eyes at the younger troll.

"A long time ago, there was a prophecy," he began gently, gnarled hands shaking from age as they tried to smooth a feather that had been dipped in some sort of liquid. "About a mating that would change the bloody path of Thrall's Horde to peace."

"She's human, you- you mated me to a HUMAN!" He slurred back venomously, attempting to crawl to his knees as he shook the cords off his forearm, staring at the bright red scars that matched the unconscious girls own. He groaned in disbelief as his world came crashing down.

He hadn't come here to marry the girl, he had merely brought her here because she had followed him across both continents willingly and Triki had promised answers to his strange dreams if he brought 'the object of his desire' to the hermit.

He didn't desire her, he hated her, loathed her even for the fact his dreams had ruined him. And now to be married to a human. A high warlord, a dedicated servant to Thrall and guardian of the city of Orgrimmar. He was shamed beyond life itself.

A ragged snarl tore from his throat, reaching to grab his dagger at his hip, furious glare on the petite figure that had woken up now and rolled over on her back to look up at him. Her white hair was strewn about her oval face, taking the colors of the subtle light and making them their own prismatic shades of molten, the deep blue eyes a vivid shade of purple and full lips pursed delicately.

She was confused, he could see it in her gaze as she looked up at the knife looming ominously above her. But he couldn't bring his weapon down into her, poised arm trembling in the air above her chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced every part of his body to thrust it down and find her heart with its tip, but his limbs would not acquiesce to his commands.

The dagger clattered uselessly onto the stone floor beside the bedmat and he crawled onto his feet and stumbled out the door into the darkness of night, hearing his name called in fright as he disappeared.

It was two days until he returned, still with no answers, no peace to call his own on what to make of the even more twisted path this entire thing had taken. His arm had healed in a matter of hours thanks to the regenerative properties of his troll blood, but the scar remained, sealed magically for all to see.

The morning was still hours off, the nocturnal creatures still voicing their existence in the inky canyons around the cave tucked in the sandy ancient cliffs. The shaman was sleeping noisily back against the cave wall, his bedmat near the fire pit where the girl slept peacefully.

She had stayed, she had waited for him.

This only made his mood darken more. He crouched beside her figure and studied the face younger than his own. She wasn't his type, let alone his species. Her exposed arms were thin, almost reminding him of the night elves sinuous figures. The scar was still tinged pink, clearly visible against her skin.

A body that had never felt the rush of battle, that knew the aches of the world. She was a goddamned bookworm, not a seasoned veteran like himself.

His world had been turned upside down in the name of a prophecy. For the Horde. He chuckled softly at the irony, reaching down to pull the fur blanket away to study her figure. The simple cream colored linen dress she wore lacked the luster he was used to seeing most humans wear, but it was fitting for the summers heat.

He leaned down, taking the hem of the skirt in his fingers and drew it up over her legs to study the coltish appendages with disgust. She was so skinny, too weak for him to even be attracted to.

She had woke up at the feeling of air on her calves, a little gasp alerting him. Iscah tried to push the material back down but he didn't let it go, crimson hues darkening even more at her struggles.

So let's see what else she had to offer then.

Her stifled cry didn't wake the old shaman up as he grabbed the top of her dress. She twisted over so he couldn't rip the fabric away, but this bode a worse move. Pinning her rump down with a knee he unbuttoned the exposed back, a disappointed growl at the shoulder blades visible beneath silky skin.

Too bony.

He shoved her onto her back again and jerked the dress down before she could react, tearing it off her completely and tossing it across the cave. She tried to get up and run but he caught her deftly, using the chance to rip the loincloth off her.

The scream this elicited woke the shaman up, the old troll rousing to the couples fight with a bleary realization of what was happening.

"Apoch! Stop! You know not what you do!"

Apoch paused, the girl pinned down by the stomach beneath his hand to glare violently at the shaman.

"Oh? What don't I know? Is she, or is she not my wife now? I want to know what's so special about this human that you had to mate us together and ruin my honor."

Iscah cried out again as he tore the bindings away from her breasts, covering their exposure with her arms and curling up in a fetal position to try to keep him from seeing anything else. He pried her open easily, straddling her hips as he took her wrists and pulled her arms away, pinning them down victoriously either side of her head.

Her struggles ceased with the defeat, breaths ragged in her chest, making her breasts rise and fall quickly, the cries turning to muted sobs as he stared at her naked figure like it was a rotting carcass. She was small, over two full feet shorter than him, half his weight easily. Despite her height she was well proportioned, though much leaner than troll females. Her breasts were too small for anything he desired, but that wasn't to say she wasn't endowed. They were perfect spheres, the pink centers taught from exposure to the cool night air.

Acting beyond his beginning intentions he pulled her arms up above her head and pinned them with one of his own, reaching down with his free hand to feel the weight of one and rub his thumb over her nipple slowly. It hardened even more.

She fought with renewed vigor, freeing one arm. With a cry of words he was thrown back, pain searing his chest where a summoned fireblast had impacted. He snarled viciously, recovering quickly and grabbing her arm before she could cast once more, both suddenly aware of the erection when her hips bucked up against it.

A cabalistic grin tugged at his lips as he leaned down, tongue darting across her collar bone before he sunk his long canines into the flesh either side of it, her scream in pain now rather than shock. Triki grabbed at him in an attempt to dislodge Apoch from the girl, but he shook the elder off easily, lapping at the pool of blood coalescing in the small dip of her shoulder.

"You cannot do that!"

"She's a human."

"_She's your wife!"_

Apoch tilted his head to look at the shaman, defying him, daring him to try to stop the younger troll from drinking the human's blood. The older man knew he was no match for the high warlord; they were beyond respect saving him from the edges of the rogues blades.

"You can marry a troll and human together, even though such is forbidden under punishment of death. Yet I cannot drink the blood of my mate like our old customs -the same custom that you just bound me to her by- allowed."

"Those were times of Gods thirsty for death, you know that," Triki snapped back, shaking from more than just rheumatism now.

The pain in his chest she was responsible for was fueling him along with the blood on his otherwise empty stomach. She smelled heady and it was growing increasingly erotic how utterly helpless she really was. He closed his eyes and turned away from the shaman back to the wound, suckling out one last taste of the coppery fluid before his mouth moved down to lock over her rouged breast, her struggles turning against her now as he manipulated her thrashings to slide between smooth legs.

He let her arms go with a flourish, glancing up to lock his eyes with her tear-streaked own. She didn't try to attack him again, lips trembling as she surmised where his mind was and what was about to take place. He reached down and undid the leather pants slowly, watching the color drain from her face as he exposed his swollen member, daring her to try to fight him.

She didn't bait, and somewhere between disappointment and victory he was pleased.

He pressed the tip of his massive erection against her nether lips, watching the panic rise in her gaze as he readied to mount her. She tried to push him away in one last attempt as he buried himself with practiced accuracy into her, an agonized scream his prize for doing so.

Triki made a small choked sound but didn't try to stop him now and Apoch reveled in this, pushing deeper into her, forcibly stretching her body to accommodate his size.

There was a vague realization on his part she was wet as he slid out easily now and thrust back into her. She was arched slightly beneath him and he pulled her up to crush her chest against his own, the blood from her shoulder cooling against his skin. Her mouth was open, lips a dark shade of roseate and eyes glassy with tears that were streaking down her accentuated cheeks. He licked the salty liquid away before pushing his tongue between her lips to feel her own velvety one as he continued his long, languid thrusts into her ready sex.

It only took a matter of moments before he came, the intensity of it making him cry out as he spilled into her ravaged body. She collapsed back against the thin bedmat when he let her go to pull out, stopping to stare down between her legs.

They were covered in blood.

She had never known a man's touch. That's what Triki had meant earlier. She hadn't been ready for him after all, it had been her ichre that had eased his strokes. He swayed slightly as he sat down beside her broken form, wiping the taste of her from his mouth. The liquid in his stomach soured, and he had to stop himself from leaning over and vomiting.

Not only had he ruined their first time as life mates, he had ruined her first time as a woman.

Triki watched his reaction before standing up and going to the girl, pressing some dried crushed leaves to her lips he had fetched from a pouch at his side.

"It will ease the pain, young one."

She didn't respond to the words spoken in her own tongue, eyes dulled over, reminding Apoch of a corpse's endless stare. Triki placed the leaves in her mouth but she didn't react, so he retreated despairingly. Apoch looked over at his shoulder down to her, ridden with guilt.

Why should he be guilty though? In the midst of war and raids on villages he had taken plenty his share of human women. Why should this one matter?

But he knew. The scar ached on his forearm and echoed inside his chest, and he knew.

Pulling the fur back up he pressed his frame against the back of her own, wrapping her in his arms to keep the small human warm as they slept, dreamlessly for the first time in six months.

Whatever was to come, they were in this together now.


	7. Chapter 7

When the sun rose, he found her in the same position he had left her in, though thankfully her eyes were closed and breaths deep with sleep. Triki was already awake, stoking the fire to warm the heavy iron kettle for tea.  
"You're a bastard," Triki whispered, loud enough only so that the rogue could hear him.  
Apoch rose, careful to not jostle the girl before turning around to sit by the fire opposite the Shaman. He ran his fingers against the grain of his hair before reaching over to grab his pants he had kicked off during the night.  
"You really expected she would change me into something else? She can't erase what I've done, who I am."  
"That was who you were, not who you are to become," Triki snapped back, leaning over to hand Apoch a cup. They shared a moments glare before he accepted it, running his thumbs over the rough clay. For a long time there was nothing said, the younger troll lost in thought as he stared sightlessly at the fire.  
"Will she forgive me?"  
"The minute she does, you'll only hate her again."  
Triki turned to rummage through his herbs noisily, finding a satchel of his liking and pulling the kettle off the open flames to put the bag into it with an elderly groan of effort. An alarm went off in Apoch's mind when he realized the shaman was watching him out of his peripheral as he went about his tasks.  
He ducked instinctively, the staff whooshing over his head with enough force to have knocked him out cold. The rogue twisted with feline grace, grabbing Iscah's wrist as she coiled it back for another swing at him. He wove his free hand under the wood and twisted it against her grasp, letting it clatter to the floor and flinching as her free hand came up to slap him in the face with as much strength as she could muster, her palm catching on his tusk instead.  
Apoch snagged her arm and crushed her against his bare chest before she could hurt herself any further, staying silent as her frustrated screeches and thrashings finally caved into gasping sobs. He exhaled slowly, sinking to the ground to let her cry herself out against the crook of his shoulder, casting a condemning glance at Triki who was watching with a thoughtful expression.  
"I gave it to the Keeper Ordanus."  
"Gave what?"  
"The dagger."  
Apoch's brow furrowed, turning his attention to the Shaman further and waiting for a better explanation.  
"You didn't think such a prophecy wouldn't come with some sort of help, did you? But unfortunately, I lost a game of bones with that sly demon and since he is the 'Keeper' he demanded custody of it."  
Apoch blinked, musing over this information. He had heard of Ordanus but that was the extent of his knowledge; rogues had little interest in druidic communion, much less one that was allied with the Night Elves.  
"So I'm guessing that's where I'll be heading next."  
"Where you and Iscah will be heading, yes."  
"No, there's no chance. You know those roads, she wouldn't last five minutes on them."  
"You'll take care of her," Triki stated, pouring himself a cup of tea and leaning back. "You can't protect her from yourself if she is not nearby. Besides, the dagger will not accept you until you fully accept her."  
"Incomprehensible fool," Apoch muttered. Still though, the thought of a new weapon was alluring. Without realizing it, he began running his fingers through Iscah's hair soothingly. The shaman had seen his arsenal, for him to have even bring up the dagger, it must be worth the time to go find it. Without Iscah he could make that journey in a matter of a day by buying a flight from the Goblins in Ratchet, but they wouldn't give her passage no matter how much gold he dumped in their lap. That meant three days of hard riding in lands inhospitible to the human mage.  
A shooting pain in his bicep snapped him out of his musings, a low snarl escaping him as he jerked back and dumped Iscah onto the ground along with his blade she had stabbed him with. Triki chortled before handing him a piece of burlap with salve already on it, obviously having known the girls intentions this time as well.  
Apoch smudged the ointment across his wound and sucked in a breath as the pain increased exponentially, glaring at the Shaman.  
"What the hell!?"  
Triki watched with a hint of disappointment on his features, looking from the small cut that had healed to a grey scar in a matter of seconds back to him.  
"That wasn't meant for you."  
"Wh-.." Apoch balked, his attention switching to the young girl and actually taking a moment to really look at her.  
Her face was a sickly white, the color in her lips drained to a pale shade and hairline greyed with sweat. She had wrapped her arms around her bare chest, tremors shaking her small frame as she sat glaring murder at him. When his eyes moved down he saw a fresh puddle of blood growing steadily beneath her hips. His heart dropped, realizing their little struggle had ripped open the wounds his rape had caused, and he pushed his hand through his hair nervously.  
"Don't you have more?"  
"No."  
"Fix her, Shaman!" He snarled, baring his fangs towards the elder and taking a threatening step forward. Triki's eyes narrowed to match his.  
"I'm not the one who caused it, so why should I have to clean up your mess? Step up and take responsibility for your actions."  
The troll threw his arms in exasperation, stalking a small path back and forth in fury before rubbing his face. The elder was right; he had done this. There wasn't even a possible way to deny his guilt for hurting the girl this badly. Letting his hands drop away he went to the strings of herbs Triki had been drying out and took his pick before going to Iscah's pack and pulling out a clean cotton dress. Setting the supplies next to her he grabbed a bowl and poured fresh water out of the kettle into it, kneeling in front of Iscah and ripping the dress into long bandages.  
Iscah watched on with distrust, having gathered from the conversation between Triki and the rogue the shaman was refusing to aid her.  
To hell with both of them, she could do it herself.  
She picked up the bowl of hot water and set it closer, Apoch looking up at her when she reached for a fresh strip of cloth he had put down.  
"Go away you bastard, I can take care of myself."  
He grunted, Iscah making an angry sound in the back of her throat when he reached over to her. She slapped his hand away and his eyes hardened, grabbing her arms and pulling her into his lap. Iscah tried to worm out of his grasp but it did no good besides cause her even more sharp stabs of pain between her legs. She bit back a whimper but couldn't stop the tears, stilling as he laid her down across his thighs when she gave up.  
Taking the cloth from her hands he dipped it in the water, waiting to let it cool slightly before beginning to run it across the top of her pelvis to wash away the dried blood. She turned her head away from him when he moved down further, his ministrations becoming much more gentle as he ran the rag between her netherlips, revealing the extent of the damage he had caused.  
Setting the ruined rag aside he picked up the herbs, crushing them between his palms until they were almost as fine as dust before wrapping them up in another fresh strip of cloth as a poultice. He dipped it in the water before murmuring something apologetic beneath his breath, spreading the petals of flesh apart with his fingers and pressing the material against the ragged wound. Iscah mewled in pain as the herbs stung, trying to push his hand away. He moved one arm to loop beneath her neck and cradle her, the other keeping the satchel pressed tightly against her flesh.  
"A'kee," he crooned, massaging her arm comfortingly. The scalding pain slowly began to dull into something more manageable, and she finally cracked her eyes open to look up into his. There was so much confusion in his gaze, but even more shocking was the guilt. She knew he hated it, knew without having to ask this emotion was something utterly new to him. He was the first to look away, suddenly uneasy at their closeness though he didn't let her go.  
The minutes passed, the awkwardness of the situation growing to a silent climax before fading out, and yet still he didn't let her go. Iscah glanced up to watch him out of the corner of her eyes, suddenly aware that he was so deeply lost in thought he had forgotten all about her or the improper position they were in. When she cleared her throat he flinched, rousing from whatever reverie he had been in before setting her down on the sleeping palette gently before moving away.  
"Triki, I need to go back to Ratchet for supplies then if it's gonna be this way. Watch over her."  
Without waiting for an answer he rose, donning his shirt as he walked out of the cave and mounted his raptor. The two vanished without a sound, leaving Iscah and Triki watching their departure in silence.  
Triki sighed heavily, taking a sip of his tea before looking at his charge.  
"I can't face this Triki, I can't stay with this monster," she finally managed in a quavering voice that bordered tears.  
"You can't go home, what's been put into motion is beyond you now. If you leave, inevitably he will come back, or you will go to him. It all depends how much time you want to waste, or even if you have the time to waste at all."  
Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks, but Iscah still shook her head even though she knew the Shaman was telling the truth. "I just want to go home."  
"I know my dear," he smiled somberly, taking another slurp of tea. "But you must follow your husband."  
Iscah swayed at his words, the entirety of the situation sinking in suddenly. She was married to a troll, and wanted to go home? To what home? They would see her as an outcast now, and even if her family forgave her and covered up the whole debacle she would forever wear a scar for all to see. Lifting her arm she at the criss-crossing marks, trying to make sense of it all. Even if she left him, there was no where to go. No where that would take her, even if she could survive the wilderness. She let her arm drop as her choices became clear; it was either stay with Apoch or face uncertainty alone.

* * *

Apoch retraced their steps back to Ratchet so that he could reduce their supplies, having already decided to take the less dangerous track to the forests of Ashenvale by cutting directly north. It would keep them well east of the main crossroads town, but would also leave them out of range of any water supply. If he kept their pace brutally swift, they could cross the grasslands of Kalimdor in two days and hopefully keep her from being seen.  
He exchanged his battle leathers for unbleached drawstring linen pants and a matching shirt, packing away his gear and weapons into his all but empty bag and shouldering it before heading to the inn for some last minute supplies. Crossing the small port of Ratchet he looked out over the water to the east, towards the peninsula where the village he called home was.  
_I'll be home soon enough,_ he thought to himself, stepping into the shade of the rickety inn and crossing to a back corner where an orc was snorting a line of purple dust.  
"Hey mon, I be needin' a sleepin' draught," Apoch murmured in orcish, low enough so that only the other could hear as he dropped into the seat opposite the table to the dealer.  
"That's not your usual order," the orc replied, sniffing sharply before lifting bloodshot eyes up to look at his customer. Apoch didn't respond, save for setting a small bag of gold coins between them.  
"So the High Warlord is back on the warpath. There are a few upstarts that are gonna be pissed."  
"I'm not coming back mon, just need ta clean up a few loose ends."  
"Yeah, that's how it always starts."  
Apoch looked down at the empty table. "You gettin better, Garl."  
"And you're getting older, Apoch." They exchanged grins before the troll leaned back in his chair comfortably, waiting as Garl stood and went upstairs, only to come back with a small vial of deep green liquid.  
"Odorless, colorless once put in liquid or food. Should take about five to ten minutes to knock out your victim and keep them out for twelve to twenty-four hours."  
Apoch nodded and reached for the potion Garl had set between them.  
"My guess is it'll take about six minutes to knock out a human female."  
His hand froze, the smile fading from his lips as his gaze flicked dangerously from the table to the orc without lifting his head. Garl held his stare in a drugged stupor for a moment before lowering his voice and pursing his lips so they couldn't be read.  
"There's muscle looking for her. Big muscle. Daddy misses his little girl and hellbent on searching every place in Azeroth until he finds her corpse."  
Apoch didn't move, Garl turning to spit a mouthful of phlegm on the floor.  
"Not my business why you're running around with a love-sick puppy at your heels, but I figure you should know. Call it a customer appreciation bonus."  
He rose smoothly, Garl belching a laugh as the vial disappeared between the trolls fingers in plain sight.  
"This shit is good or you've gotten better."  
Apoch smirked and took his leave, the smile vanishing instantly when he was out of sight of the poison dealer. He should kill Garl for knowing too much, but he suspected the orc was doing that just fine on his own with the addictions the money he had amassed on the black market was buying him.  
He stopped at the well to fill the five large canteens he had bought and drink his fill, dousing himself with water before returning to Bu'u who was waiting patiently under the shade of a palm tree. The hot breeze wicked the moisture away from his skin and hair within minutes, but he didn't mind. Having been raised in the jungle and trained on these very grass belts left him used to the heat, his race well-adapted to such environments.  
Securing his bags and the water supply he remounted, Bu'u already shying towards the trail that led back to Triki's cave before breaking into a dead run when his rider gave him free reign. Apoch snorted a laugh at his mount, who seemed genuinely excited to return back to the useless mage. At least one of them was.  
The raptor coughed a warning that shook Apoch out of his musings, focusing on the trail ahead and Triki shambling as quickly as he could on his gnarled foot. He reigned to a stop, anxiety raising at the look on the shamans face.  
"Iscah... gone," Triki puffed, leaning on his stick heavily.  
"You fool! Where did she go?!"  
The old man shook his head, still too out of breath to reply. Apoch cursed prolifically, snapping the reigns against Bu'u's haunches. Knowing how ignorant the girl was her trail would be easy to follow once found. He just hoped he found her before the pirates did.

* * *

The brittle grass bent and hissed beneath her feet as she moved through it, her little pants of breath in double to her pace. It was so hot, and so blindingly bright on the savannah and the pain of walking was becoming more and more unbearable. Already the raw tear had reopened, but there was nothing to be done besides press on. She readjusted the little satchel of supplies swung over one shoulder she had stolen from Triki's when the old man had fallen into a noisy sleep, though now she regretted not having taken more water and some medicine for her wound. Already the water bag she had filched was bone dry, half drunk, the other part used to try to clean the blood that had begun to seep again down her legs off. It had been a bad decision, one, like so many she realized with a rueful smile, that she had come to regret.  
After having picked up from Apoch's parting words he was heading to Ratchet it had left her options slim. She could go to the pirates, but whether or not they would return her to her father or just kill her was up for grabs. She almost believed dying would've been simpler than facing her parents humiliation. Instead she headed northwest, circling the mountain that Triki's cave was carved into and heading out into the open dry plains. Ashenvale was her destination, though now she was beginning to think she might not even be able to make it. Not even four hours into her solitary journey and she was out of water and only halfway sure she was even going in the right direction. Anything was better than being that monster's property though.  
A chirp echoed over the all but noiseless plain, and Iscah stopped to listen for it again, turning to look behind her through squinted eyes.  
Bu'u chirped again happily when he saw the mage had spotted them, Iscah watching the two race across the sea of gold towards her. Without thinking she dropped her bag and ran for the only baobab tree within view, the troll bellowing what sounded like a warning.  
Iscah looked up from her tunnel vision on the tree when the grass moved a dozen yards away, panic making her limbs run cold when she realized the shape was a lioness hunting her. When she met the alert, gold eyes the regina sprung into action, muscles visible beneath her tawny fur as she hurled herself over the ground at alarming speed. The mage froze in fear, watching the animal barrel towards her with fatal grace before the cat's side twitched violently as Apoch's blade sunk deep between her ribs. She stumbled before losing her footing, crashing into the dirt and rolling to a stop.  
Another lioness caught her attention, her focus unbroken by the fall of the other female as she sprinted for the human. Iscah screamed the words for a fire spell and flames blazed to life across the cats face, her roar of pain shaking the girls ribcage though she had no time to watch; the entire pride was in on the hunt, and none of them seemed shaken at the loss of their mates.  
A young male leaped for the mage, Iscah unaware of the attack until she heard the sound of bone crashing against bone, Apoch and Bu'u launching themselves into the fray. He ducked the massive paw that swung out at him with deceiving speed, lashing out with his remaining dagger though the male had backed off, sensing he was in over his head.  
Two more females flew out of the grass for him, and the troll turned to face their feral attacks, moving with his own feline grace that matched the animals. One of the female's snarls cut off abruptly when his dagger found the side of her neck, sinking into the powerful muscles like they were clay before shoving the blade down and through her throat. The other female leapt onto him and he twisted with the impact, using his legs to launch her up and through the air, her tail whipping furiously in an attempt to land back on her feet.  
The male chose then to attack, slapping his paw across Apoch's back and drawing a ragged scream from the rogue as his claws bit through the thin linen of his shirt and into his flesh. Bu'u took the male down before his master could respond, pinning the young rex to the ground and tearing a gash that went from the bottom of his ribcage all the way to his groin with his massive sickle claw, spilling his entrails onto the cracked dirt.  
Apoch recovered but there was no fight left, the remaining lions retreating with their heads low and fear widening their piercing eyes. He roared at them and they broke into a full run, vanishing into the grasses. He turned and went back to the corpse of the lioness he had first killed, retrieving his dagger out of her side, exposing the four deep gashes on his back to the mage. She gasped in shock at the blood trickling out of them though he didn't even seem phased, going back over to Bu'u and rummaging through a satchel, pulling out needle, sinew, and a small vial of alcohol before turning back to her angrily.  
"Wah weh quashi," he spat, smacking himself upside the head to signify the demeaning word. "Quashi!"  
He hissed an exhale and went over to her, shoving the supplies into her hands before turning away and pulling off his shirt. Iscah felt her stomach roil at the sight of the fresh meat open on his back, taking a deep breath through her mouth as he squatted down in front of her expectantly.  
"You want me to stitch you up? I-.. I don't know how._ Im_."  
"TOR!" He snarled, Bu'u shying at the fury in his riders voice. Iscah flinched, biting the inside of her lip. He had saved her, for what reason who knew, but he had. Unstopping the alcohol she let the liquid drip across the open wounds, using up the supply entirely to make sure all of the area in and around them were sterilized. She then unwound the sinew threaded it, taking shelter in her self-righteous anger before crouching down behind him. She reached up hesitantly, brows furrowing as she pushed the needle into the edge of the wound and out the ragged edge. He didn't make a sound, though the tension permeating the air seemed to simmer down. Iscah stitched up the first gash awkwardly, but by the end of the first row her sutures looked more even. It wasn't nearly as daunting a task when she thought of it the same as her embroidery lessons her mother had dragged her through.  
"I hate you, even if you did just save me, I still hate you," she said, stabbing the needle into his flesh a little harder than necessary. The muscles in his back shifted as he turned his head to glare over his shoulder venomously at her, sweat dripping down his face heavily. Iscah matched his look with a scowl of her own before pulling the thread through.  
"First you want me to leave, and then I finally do and you chase after me," she continued, falling into an easy rhythm of stitching.  
"You're so fickle and I'm sick of it. All I want is to get away from you, forget about you, and move on."  
She tapped his knife curtly and he pulled it out of the sheath, twisting his arm around to hand it back to her without sparing another glance. She cut the sinew and set it back in his waiting palm, re-threading the needle and poking it into the top of the next gash. His deep rumble of displeasure at her less than gentle ministrations vibrated through her fingertips, and she ignored it.  
"I was happy at the Mage University, studying their books. I had almost felt sorry for the trolls in the ancient wars, but now that I know one so personally good riddance; I hope your whole species gets wiped out. Perhaps I'll ask Truvien for that as a wedding present." Her voice faltered at the last thought, knowing she wanted to marry Truvien just about as much as she wanted to drown. So why say it? To spite Apoch? She smiled sardonically to herself, knowing that he couldn't understand anything she was saying anyways. It was a perfectly good speech filled with all bits of sordid lies that was falling on deaf ears.  
Knotting the end of her last stitch she reached for his dagger to cut the string, placing it back into the sheath. "There, all done."  
He shifted, turning around to face her casually though by the smouldering look in his eyes she knew he was furious. Reaching up slowly he took the needle out of her hand, locking her palm inside of his so that her index finger was extended out. With a leisurely movement he stabbed the needle into the pad of her finger, not allowing her to jerk it back when she gasped in pain.  
"Deh'j yudo wha?" He teased caustically, watching her reaction with mock sympathy. Iscah glared bitterly at him, tempting the thought of slapping him with her free hand though it would be a useless move against the rogue.  
Canting his head to the side he twisted her finger up to his mouth, hesitating for briefly before licking the heavy droplet of blood that was threatening to fall. He drew her digit into his mouth as his eyes closed, and Iscah could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest at the sensation of his warm, satin tongue running over the tiny prick.  
It felt like he was drawing something out of her, more than just blood. The well of magic inside her pulled through the wound, and he shuddered visibly as if he too, could feel the effect. Her breath sped up as he pulled her finger out of his mouth, drawing her wrist up to press his lips against her racing pulse exposed between the tendons. She exhaled silently when he rubbed the front of his canines against the tender skin as if he wanted to sink them into her vein before he ran his lips slowly up the length of her arm.  
When he reached the first part of her exposed neck he stopped, his breath washing down across her back from his nose as he exhaled to take another deep inhale of her scent. The wiry hairs of his sideburns were brushing up against her cheek, and she turned to let them tickle her nose, breath catching in her throat when she felt his lips slide over her skin again in a gentle nip.  
Almost grudgingly he pulled away, assessing her state with a glance before assuming she was alright. Bu'u came over as his master left, bumping her with his forehead gently before sniffing at her legs. Iscah shoved his face away quickly, but Apoch caught his raptors worried body language. Her wound. No wonder the lions were in such a frenzy.  
"You would think after your run-in with the wolves you would've learned something, but I guess stupidity runs thick in the human breed," he muttered to himself, retrieving her bag she had dropped and rummaging through it to see if she had brought anything to help. Nothing. By the Loa's, how the hell had her race become so supreme?  
Finding herbs out in the semi-dessert would take time, and the more spent out in the plains of his people, the more of a chance someone would see her. Weighing in on her wound versus both of them getting killed the latter won, and he went back to Bu'u to retrieve one of the canteens to take a deep draught, swishing the dust out of his mouth before pouring the rest of the contents into Bu'u's waiting maw. Tying the empty bottle to his saddle he went to Iscah and lifted her onto Bu'u's back, setting her down as tenderly as he could.  
"No, princess. None for you unless you want to actually be a help rather than a burden and pull your weight for once," was his response to her thirsty stare at the four remaining bottles. He punched the raptor's jaw playfully and got a hiss in response, ducking a swing of talons from the beast and setting off again at a fast pace that Bu'u fell into step with easily. It was nearly dusk before they stopped again, the troll drinking a meager share of the water before offering his mount the rest of their portion.  
Iscah slid off his back and wobbled away to sit in the grass while Bu'u drank his share with relish, though he stopped suddenly before the bottle was finished and turned to walk off, sitting down and using his back talon to pick out the flecks of mud the dust had formed in his nostrils.  
Apoch walked over to the mage and handed her the raptors gift, collapsing next to her as he worked to catch his breath again. Iscah drank it in silence before putting the cap back on, drawing her knees to her chest and watching the sun set.  
By the time she passed out, he had his breath back.  
"Three minutes, Garl. You were off." He tisked theatrically, checking her pulse before pulling a small, smokey glass orb out of his bag he had stolen from Triki before having left for Ratchet.  
He sat cross-legged and took it in both palms, closing his eyes in concentration as he focused on the magic held within it.  
_Yes?_  
"Dere be a debt you owe me I'm collectin on. Tomorrow night a human female will be at Nightsong Lake. I need you to dispose of her."  
There was a long pause, the orb pulsing with subtle light.  
_Consider it done._  
The connection cut off instantly, the orb's ethereal glow vanishing as well as it became inate in his hands once more.  
The smile he expected to have never came, watching the stars come to life with a blank mind for a long time before finally stretching out and falling asleep under their mournful gaze.


	8. Chapter 8

Iscah woke to the feeling of Apoch's hand on her shoulder shaking her awake and a few pieces of dried fruit being dumped onto her chest before he walked away to check on his mount. Her head was pounding miserably with dehydration she assumed, but obviously the troll wasn't about to give her any of his supply.

Sitting up she looked around, realizing he had woke them up with the skies barely gray yet. It was for the better; this was horde occupied land, and the faster they got through it the better. To where though she had no idea. Triki nor Apoch had informed her of where their next destination was.

Picking up the morsels of fruit she ate them slowly, trying to draw out their flavor and make her stomach settle down on the meager rations. If only she had water to drink with them.

She stopped chewing, looking back up to the troll and his mount. There were spells, conjuration ones. In her free-time she had studied their complex designs, but attempts had left her with anything from bottles of mud to a worm that could talk in mainly curses. Her head roared with pain as she rose, rubbing at her temples to try to ease the ache before going to Bu'u and taking an empty flask. Apoch cast her an irritated though curious glance as she sat back down and set the cannister in her lap. Lacing her fingers over it she closed her eyes and straightened her back, taking a deep breath as she went over the words committed to memory. Behind her she could hear the hiss of the grass as the troll came over to peer over her shoulder.

She felt the world around her suddenly in a way she hadn't before. The compact dirt below the sand, the excitement of the of the dry, brittle grass as the sun drew closer to giving them sustenance. Above her the winds that were well above the clouds sang of their travels, while deep below the rich earth, cold aquifers ran as slow as a glacier through the tunnels they had carved out eons ago.

Words from the ancient texts spilled out of her in almost lyrical inflections, calling out to the spring. She felt the canteen grow heavier in her lap, tilting with its weight though Apoch caught it before it could fall over and spill all its contents. He crouched beside her, sniffing it reproachfully before taking a small sip. The doubt in his eyes vanished, looking to her and giving a nod of approval before handing it back.

She took a sip too, blinking when sweet water trickled over her tongue, a moment of victory made even more gratifying as she drank her thirst and headache away.

Apoch waited until she had finished before pointing to it and rotating his finger horiztonally, speaking to her in his language. He wanted to see if she could do it again.

Nodding shyly she set it back down and took a short, steadying breath, calling in the same fashion to the source beneath them that now responded much easier. He took another drink, holding the water in his mouth for a moment before nodding in appreciation at the taste and swallowing it. Apoch took the canteen back to Bu'u and strapped it on, helping her onto the saddle before the two shared a smile. His was the first to fade suddenly, the troll turning away from her as he ran his hand through his hair in an unconscious gesture of insecurity before breaking into a graceful jog that Bu'u fell in step with.

They took more breaks during the day, though short enough only for them to have water Iscah conjured up before setting out at the steady pace, saving the other three canteens full of water in case her spells failed. The passing scenery was beautiful enough, but her eyes kept wandering to the troll jogging beside her. His leather armor had hinted at a lean form but had hidden the sharp edges of his muscles. Now with only pants on she could see how built his body was, catching a glimpse every now and then of the feathered muscles around his ribs or the ridges of his stomach that delved down below the low-hanging waist of his pants. She would have to jerk her gaze away as she felt a heat rise in her cheeks that had little to do with the blazing sun and focus on a passing cactus or tree, only to find her attention back on him some time later.

If he was aware of her eyes he didn't show it, his head lifted and gaze soft on the horizon ahead, breath as steady as his pace. They ate up the miles this way, and by mid-day the open plains of grass had given way to arid trees and shrubs dotting the mountainous hills around them. Apoch stopped when a watch tower came into view over the treetops, breaking their day-long fast with the remaining dried fruits and heading into the woods to change into his leathers.

When he came back he pulled out a long stretch of rope, going to Iscah and binding her hands in front of her tighter than she thought was necessary. Remounting his raptor he set their pace so that Iscah was soaked in sweat and out of breath by the time they got to the tower, the archers training their sights on the human as they came into view.

"Don't be shootin her, you idiots!" Apoch snarled, pulling back his cowl to glare at the soldiers. An orc guard came out to meet them, eyeing the human before giving the troll half a salute.

"Lok'tar. What is the meaning of this."

"Business beyond your rank, Grunt," Apoch replied back silkily, smirking as the orcs face contorted in rage.

"High Warlord!" A female guard interjected before the grunt could respond, sending her partner a scalding look before saluting with much more respect.

"You know this cocky mongrel?"

"That's Apoch," she hissed back. The orc blinked, his doubt vanishing instantly at the name. He stepped back and Apoch nodded to them, kicking Bu'u forward through the gates into Ashenvale.

Iscah had switched places with him when they had cleared the road, nodding off in the saddle as they had carefully wound their way through the forests thicker than Duskwood. When Bu'u stopped she woke, looking around with wide eyes at the massive trees that ringed the clear lake.

In a matter of minutes he had a small fire started at the lakes edge, leaving Bu'u packed though Iscah had pulled her bag down, expecting to rest here for the night.

There was a slight hesitation in her step, and she looked back to Apoch before plucking at her clothes and pinching her nose shut with a grimace.

He nodded in comprehension, pulling out the small bar of soap he carried with him and handed it to her. She took it with a head bob before pulling out a fresh robe that was a pretty robbins egg blue from her small assortment of clothes he had bought her in Booty Bay before skipping off.

Apoch watched her skid to a halt, looking back at him and motioning to her eyes and then to him, shaking her head with a silly smile. He snorted a laugh and turned his back to her pointedly, listening as she headed off down the shoreline.

When she was out of sight he walked back into the woods, cutting through the growth with absolute silence before melding into the shadows and weaving down to where she had found a small alcove between two giant trees to bathe at.

He leapt up a tangle of root structures on one a few yards away, crouching with his back against the trunk and watching her from his peripheral to give her some sort of privacy. For some reason, the thought of Nezrial killing her in such an indecent setting bothered him.

Pursing his lips he gave a low chirp of a bird native to Ashenvale, but there was no response. He sighed with relief inwardly, though it was short lived when he realized she was looking in his exact direction. There was a moment of panic when he forgot whether he was stealthed or not, but when he checked and found he was he looked back to her curiously.

She tried a whistle back, mistaking him for an actual bird, trying to lure it out to see what sort of species it was. Unable to help himself he responded, watching a smile grow across her face before she let the dress fall from her shoulders to the ground.

The sight of her naked still sent a cold spear of electricity running up his spine. There was no denying she was lovely, her form slender enough to leave her stomach flat and hint at the sharp angles of her hip bones that led his eyes further down. The hair that spilled down her back had a natural relaxed curl to it that made it hang in tumultous waves, and though somehow her eyebrows and small patch between her legs were as snowy as her mane, the thick fringe of eyelashes were black as night.

Stepping a foot into the water testingly she squealed, wrapping her arms across her chest and doing a little prep jig before hopping into the icy depths up to her waist. The frigid temperature brought goosebumps to her ivory skin and made her nipples harden, their color the same as her chattering lips as she scrubbed herself down furiously with soap. Apoch couldn't help but remember the feel of them in his mouth, the way her breasts felt against the rough skin of his hands.

He jerked his gaze away with a sharp exhale as he felt the first waves of warmth emanate up from his groin. By the time he had calmed his mind she was out of the water again, rubbing herself dry on the hem of the fresh robe before pulling it on and heading back to the camp.

Dropping off the tangle of roots he stalked after her, his heart pounding in his ears, adrenaline roaring through his blood as if he was about to attempt his first kill like so many decades ago. He moved up behind Iscah in murderous silence as she paused to find him missing from the campsite, slamming the hilt of his dagger across the back of her head. He let out a rattled breath as she dropped unconscious to the ground next to the fire, Bu'u screeching in surprise before turning against the troll.

Even with his talons, he was no match. Apoch dodged a flurry of claws, whipping the back his free hand across the raptor's sensitive muzzle with enough force to send him sprawling the opposite way of Iscah. Before he could get to his legs again Apoch pinned his neck down with a knee and locked arm, leaning forward to glare into his mounts golden eye. Bu'u struggled only once before submitting to his master. The troll waited one more moment to drive his dominance in before standing up and resheathing his blade, turning to walk away from the camp and back into the woods towards the northeast. Bu'u followed with his head down, glancing one last time forlornly at Iscah before vanishing into the thicket.

Iscah gasped as ice cold water sprayed her face, sitting up as she fought a wave of nausea that the pain in the back of her skull had caused. When she opened her eyes to the darkness night had brought, the pain was forgotten instantly, heart dropping in her chest at the undead rogue squatting in front of her.

His smile reached only half the side of his face, the other part missing, exposing the rotted green teeth and a part of his jawbone. Even as she watched a maggot wiggled between his tongue and molars. The overpowering smell of decay brought another onset of nausea, but she choked it back, too horrified to look away from him.

He leaned forward slightly, widening his milk-white eyes so their ethereal glow brightened her face that was empty of color.

"Run."


	9. Chapter 9

Apoch jerked to a halt, his head snapping around as a scream reached his ears. He glanced at Bu'u who's hearing was on par if not better than his own, but the raptor seemed not to have noticed the unnatural sound.

He grunted, turning to head back down the path again towards Keeper Ordanus, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

The plan was simple enough; kill the mutated deer and take the dagger for himself, Triki's words be damned. He had never heard of any weapon that had to accept its wielder in all his life, so this one he assumed would be no different. After that, he could return home to Nedivah with his prize and his life back in order.

It seemed all well enough, but he couldn't shake the fear that was keeping his heart racing. Bu'u nudged him when he stopped walking again, the troll taking a few more steps before freezing when he thought he heard Iscah cry out his name. Turning to look at his raptor he watched his blank expression for a moment, coming to the conclusion he was losing his mind.

Nezrial would've killed her by now he mused. He closed his eyes to clear his mind in a quick meditation, but the opposite happened; flashes of red on shaking limbs, Nezrials clawed hands dripping with her blood. He had to grab Bu'u's neck to steady himself, looking up at his forearms and the scars winding across his skin.

Letting his mount go he grabbed at his bags, rummaging though the side pocket where he had hidden the communication orb. Perhaps it wasn't too late to call off the assassin. His heart dropped, fingers running across rough material instead of smooth glass as he pulled out a small burlap-wrapped package. Unwinding it, he found it was filled with healing salve. Triki.

"Shit."

He barely had one leg over Bu'u before the raptor was at a dead run back towards the lake.


	10. Chapter 10

Iscah tried to scream again as a throwing star buried into her shoulder, but her throat was too raw for anything but a hoarse croak. She braced up against the trunk of a tree and reached around with violently shaking hands to yank it out, dropping it to the ground and hopping onwards on one foot; the other dragging uselessly behind her. Nezrial had sliced her achilles heel when she had tried to run away from him the second time on his command, leaving her too crippled to make any legitimate progress so that he could follow her along at a leisurely pace. A long tear down the backside of her dress exposed a thin gash that ran the length of her shoulder to her hip.

She made it as far as two more trees before collapsing, dragging herself to hide behind the roots. It was of little use though, her labored, irregular breaths gave her away all too easily.

Step. Step. Step. Each footfall closer, each one causing her to twitch as she cried hopelessly. She covered her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sound of the undeads approach.

The rogue bent over her, placing a gentle hand beneath her chin and forcing her head up to look into her terrified gaze. He laughed as a dark spot spread across her dress as the mage pissed herself in fear, poising his dagger over her swelling eye he had punched earlier.

"Such a pretty color, I think I'll keep one more myself and eat the other while I watch you hobble through the forest."

He struck, but a metallic clang shot his aim sideways so that it cut a line from her temple into her scalp. He jerked back and unlocked daggers with Apoch, blinking in surprise.

"I be changin my mind, Nezrial. Sorry."

"An unfortunate choice. I was having so much fun," the rogue replied, standing out of range of the trolls weapons. "This doesn't change the fact my debt to you has been repaid."

"Understood."

Neither moved. A bird cried somewhere off in the distance, it's lamenting song echoing off the ancient redwoods surrounding them.

"So it comes down to this."

"I can't be lettin ya live now dat you know."

The undead smiled macabre, unsheathing his other dagger slowly so that the troll could see it's irridescent green sheen; it was covered in poison. "You're out of practice, Apoch. And me? I'm in my prime."

Apoch nodded somberly. "Yeah mon, I know."

Both rogues vanished at the same time, Iscah bracing herself against to try to get to her foot and looking around to see which would get the first hit.

Apoch flashed into view suddenly, slamming against the tree right beside her before rolling away, flecks of bark raining down in her face as the undead tried to impale his exposed chest.

Nezrial left his dagger in the trunk to duck Apoch's counter for a moment before wrenching it free, crossing his weapons to block a wave of attacks, the troll pressing him back away from the mage. There was a few seconds where neither made any progress, the low light flashing off the metal of their blades as they dodged and parried each others assailments.

Nezrial snarled as Apoch threw blinding dust into his eyes, the troll vanishing out of view and reappearing behind the undead. Nezrial ducked and his slash cut through empty space, sweeping his feet out from under him. Apoch rolled backwards with the movement and into a low crouch, balancing himself on the pads of his feet as he raised his daggers into a defensive cross.

"You're bleeding," Nezrial crooned, stance taking on the ease of a known victory.

"It happens."

Nezrial snorted a laugh, launching himself back at the other rogue with wide sweeping strikes, baiting his adversary though Apoch knew better. He realized this quickly and changed his style, shortening his thrusts but it proved a fatal move, the trolls arm twice as long as his own snaking out in an intricate dance to weave past his guard and catch him in the side, spilling his innards. He faltered and Apoch advanced with a burst of force, slamming his shoulder into his exposed chest while his other hand arched the blade up and under Nezrial's breastbone into his heart.

Apoch unwound himself from the corpse and pulled his weapons out of the now fully-dead body, snapping his wrists to shake the blood and bits of flesh off the metal before quickly moving to Iscah.

She tried to hop away but her useless leg wouldn't allow it and he caught up with her quickly, ignoring her weakened attempts to dislodge him; Nezrial had pointed out the cuts he had managed to get on him because of the poison coating his blade. He knew he would survive, but he would be useless with pain until at least the afternoon as his body fought the effects.

Quickly checking her wounds he pulled out the salve, rubbing it across her exposed achilles tendon and the more major damage that Nezrial had done, swaying slightly as his head began to reel with vertigo and vision blacking in and out. When the ointment was used up he sat back heavily, looking up to her as she crawled away to glimpse a face that was tinged with fear of him.

"Iscah, wait-"

His abdominal muscles contracted in an agonizing spasm that made him curl up, catching himself on a flexed arm and turning his head to retch violently. Iscah struggled to her feet as the salve mended her wounds and bolted into the deeper woods, leaving him writhing in the dirt in agony.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a forest one could find solace in. The trees ancient, their stories stretching for generations if one would only listen. Their regal boughs canopied the sky above but the wind playing in their leafy fingertips was audible from the earth far below, and every once in a while one would creak like an old man grunting from the effort of moving.

With the sun blocked out the deep woods remained cooler than the exposed countryside at the edge of their boundaries, offering respite from the summer's sweltering heat for those than ventured into their depths. Very few traveled far into their lair though, stories of ghosts and woodland dryads that zealously guarded their precious habitat keeping most adventurers at bay.

Yet the living arcane towers found two foreign beings among them. One hopelessly lost in both despair and direction, the other regretful and seeking forgiveness.

Both facing each other in silence.

Apoch finally broke the seconds that had stretched into minutes of standing before his wife some distance off, unsheathing his two daggers strapped to either hip. A muscle in her jaw visibly tensed, her weight shifting onto her back foot in a stance of defense at the ominous motion.

He tossed them onto the ground between them.

Her slender brows furrowed ever so slightly at the gesture, bending deeper as he took a tentative towards her. His expedition faltered, but only for a second as her hands erupted into blue orbs of light, her lips barely moving with the spell.

The missile of ice struck him square in the chest, causing him to take a step back. He gasped in pain but recovered, the advancement even more sluggish than before; effects of the frostbolt.

Two steps forward, one step back. And she kept attacking with his progression until he was barely alive when he collapsed on his knees in front of her. The spells damage was visibly apparent on his exposed skin, the flesh cracked open in deep fissures though the blood had frozen in place, keeping him from bleeding to death yet hindering his heightened regenerative abilities.

"I'm sorry."

He swayed slightly, vaguely aware there were tears running down her cheeks. Reaching up with quaking, frost-bitten fingers he drew her form against him, pressing his face into her stomach.

"I'm so sorry."

She cried out his name as he fell unconscious.


	12. Chapter 12

The subtle aroma of fresh herbs and pungent earth roused him back to the land of the living, cracking his eyes open slowly to blink at the fire burning steadily before him. He tried to move but this proved difficult; his hands and feet were bound incompetently but bound nonetheless. Lifting his head from the soft wool blanket he studied his surroundings; a small cave that could barely fit three trolls with his pack and Iscah's tossed against the corner, some of the contents spread out on the packed dirt floor along with bundles of plants.

He rolled onto his side and threaded his legs through his arms so they were no longer behind his back, sitting up in a kneeling position to peer out the small mouth into the darkness. It was raining steadily, the soft whooshing sound of the tiny droplets falling reaching his sensitive ears.

And he was naked.

Apoch blinked at this conclusion, looking around for his gear which was hanging up not far off, the black and burgundy leather cleaner than he remembered last seeing it. His attention snapped back to the entrance of the makeshift domicile at the sound of footsteps. Small feet, their movements clumsy as if hindered by foreign weight. Iscah.

The human girl ducked inside the den, dropping two scorched rabbits onto the ground unceremoniously before the fire and pushing the hood of her waterproof cloak back. She froze at the sight of the troll awake and the bemused look on his face.

"Did you mean to cook them while killing them at the same time?"

Iscah blinked at his words, not understanding the troll language any better than he understood hers. It distracted her only for a second before she realized he was sitting there exposed, his hands resting between his spread, folded legs doing very little to hide his dignity. She flushed, the color deepening at his soft chuckle, the troll enjoying his wife's demureness. Retrieving a skinning knife from his pack she pulled off the cape and set it aside, rounding behind him apprehensively. Apoch didn't move save to cock his head to the side to watch her actions complacently.

She cut the binds at his ankles and backed up quickly, retrieving his pants and tossing them to him before turning away to give him privacy to change.

His smile grew a bit more, picking up the clothing and setting it down beside him before reaching over to grab a charred rabbit with still-bound hands, tearing into it ravenously.

She glanced back at him, face ridden with confusion at his decision to remain nude as he sat cross-legged eating a half-cooked, unprepared carcass.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Again, an uncomprehending look before she frowned, making an educated guess about what he had asked and holding up three fingers. Apoch grunted in response, glancing at his skin no longer bearing wounds of her attack as he chomped on innards noisily. She turned back away with a queasy expression, going to the other rabbit and setting it on a rock, studying it with a little scowl.

With no experience out in the wilderness she had no idea how to clean and prepare an animal to eat, and by the time she had managed to make use of only half the poor creature Apoch had devoured every bit of his, cracking the bones open with his teeth and sucking the marrow out. He stretched out onto his back on the bed, listening to the dried grass crunch beneath the blanket. She had made him comfortable enough while he was passed out at least.

Using one of the bone splinters to pick out sinew and fur from between his teeth he glanced over to the girl, studying her in the soft light of the fire. She was naive to the world still, and if he had tried to counter her attacks three days ago he would've succeeded much too easily; a fact that worried him. Without any wisdom of survival on her own she could cost them both their lives. That would have to change, and quickly.

He didn't realize she was staring at him as well until she stood up angrily, grabbing his shirt and throwing it at him. It smacked him in the face but he simply set it aside as well casually, his nonchalant response eliciting an exasperated string of words from her. It only added to his amusement, knowing she was embarrassed by his nudity. She had taken his clothes off to care for his bodily functions those days he was recuperating he knew, the fact that he didn't reek verified this.

Despite the knowledge almost every other troll he knew was quite odorous, Apoch had taken to bathing with a soap that stripped him of scent; it was easier to stealth and kill when his victims couldn't use any of their senses, including smell to find him. She must've bathed him during that time as well, and by the bundles of locally picked herbs nearby she had also helped aid his body along in healing.

He held his bound wrists up to her in response to the unintelligible words, her eyes narrowing before she shook her head. He shrugged, and continued to pick at his canines as she ate her scant meal sulkily and crawled into her own bed. Long after the flames had perished into burning embers he was still awake, watching his wife sleep.

In her dreams, she spoke troll aloud. In her dreams, her deepest desires and yearnings for him were revealed. At the beginning before he had sought her out these dreams had just been images of each other or short conversations, but with their close proximity they had evolved, becoming more intimate with every passing night.

It was the same truth for him, he knew. More than once lately he had woken with a cry of pleasure and a soaked loincloth. It was one more denial on a list that had grown too long that had fueled him to turn to Nezrial to do a task he had found impossible to do himself; kill his wife. But before the favor could be completed his conscience had got the best of him and he saved her before it was too late.

Before it was too late in the sense of her life, at any rate. She had put two and two together easily, and the betrayal had been enough to drive her away from him without anymore harsh words on his behalf. After the effects of Nezrial's poison finally wore off he had approached her to ask for forgiveness, and thus ended here in this cave, naked, and a wife calling out for him passionately in her sleep. The binds on his arms he could've easily picked free with his tusks, but that would've defeated the purpose.

A purpose he found renewed as he watched Iscah toss feverishly beneath her cover. He waited until her breaths had become uneven and the color had risen to her cheeks before rolling onto his knees and crawling over to her, throwing the blanket aside and straddling her hips as she woke with a start. Panic replaced the intimate dreams and she tried to cast in self-defense, Apoch slapping her hands away with a low growl, warning her he'd have none of that. She flattened against the bedmat, staring up at him apprehensively as he lowered his bound wrists towards her.

"Untie me, woman."

Iscah blinked, the curiosity replaced with stubbornness as she realized what he wanted.

"UNTIE ME!"

Shaken but steadfast she shook her head, the troll snarling as he shifted forward and used a foot to rake her dress up ominously. She yelped and tried to summon a fireblast but he was ready, ducking the flames as they burst to the right of his ear and catching her hands between his, pinning them to the makeshift pillow. Beneath the back of his fingers he could feel her small dagger hidden under the fluff, her struggles ceasing instantly as he ground his erection against her stomach, her face losing all color as dread replaced surprise. For a moment the two stared at each other, Apoch leaning down and narrowing crimson hues.

"Obey me."

He relaxed his grip on her wrists at the sight of tears in the corner of her eyes, and she slipped her hands free from his, reaching under the pillow to fetch the small dagger. Apoch bared his throat at her hesitation, grin turning sadistic.

"You've never killed before little lamb, I see it in your eyes. What makes you so sure you can do it now?"

Not understanding his words but reading his body language she looked away from his gaze, cutting the bindings from his hands. With a sigh of relief he rubbed the raw skin, popping his joints before turning his attention back to the tiny figure under him. He took the knife from her and pressed it to her collar bone, the smallest of knicks made in her flawless skin so that a pearl of blood could rise to the surface. He brushed her fingers away from the wound when she tried to cover it, leaning down to lick it clean before running the back of his tusks along the curve of her neck, breathing in her warm scent.

"That will be the only pain I cause you tonight," he whispered huskily in her ear, tossing the dagger away. "I'll reward you for being such a good wife."

His kiss caught her by surprise, the depth and passion of it everything she had dreamed of. Apoch took the moment to his advantage, unfastening her dress and pushing it down around her waist, moving his mouth down to suckle on her breast when she twisted her lips away from his. Once again she found her thrashings used against her, defiance replaced with defeat as he shifted to pull her into his lap, gathering her in his arm while the other made quick work of relieving her of clothes. She was sobbing quietly despite the fact her body was responding to his every touch, still wound up from the dream he had woken her from.

When his fingertips slipped across the small patch of material covering her sex he found it soaked, laughing softly at the discovery and the color that rose so quickly to her cheeks.

She curled up, trying to hide her face from him and keep his hands from delving any further, but it did no good, the undergarment moved aside so that he could massage the little petals of sensitive flesh. Iscah gasped but refused to give in to him, limbs trembling with every brush of his digits. He slipped one finger deep into her, feeling her tighten around the appendage as he invaded her over and over again. At last he milked a cry of delight from her, a small spams causing her to unfurl ever slightly as she climaxed beneath his hand.

"See? I can be gentle," he murmured, entwining his body with her own before pulling the blanket over them. She was still breathless and he took the moment to study the beauty afterglow gave her, running his thumb across the plush tiers parted ever so slightly. It was only a matter of moments before her eyes grew heavy beneath his gentle caresses, the tension easing out of her form as she fell asleep, Apoch following suit only after he was sure his wife slept dreamlessly once again.

When dawn's light finally roused the troll the first sight to greet him were his wife's indigo hues peering up at him. He rolled on top of her and kissed her, the motion catching her off-guard like he had hoped, and before she could push him away he was already leaping to his feet, grabbing the bar of soap from his satchel and draping the blanket over his morning erection, a little glance stolen at his wife who was still recovering as he stepped out into the clear morning to find a stream to bathe in.

Bu'u hissed a greeting as he came into view, long strides carrying the beast to its master as he dipped his maw repeatedly, the taloned foreclaws that had struck many a rider and mount down in the fields of battle curled out of sight submissively. Apoch slapped his thick, S-curved neck affectionately before rubbing his head, checking him over carefully. Iscah had also taken care of the predator as best she could, freeing him of reigns and saddle so he could hunt. Satisfied his mount was alright he continued on, finding a small pond not far off to bathe in.

When he returned to the cave it was with two pheasants in tow, his wife frowning at the birds when he set both down in front of her and went to change back into the black linen pants she had washed as well.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to eat them raw again. You're going to learn how to clean them," he responded to her inquiring gaze, strapping his daggers back onto his sides lovingly before crouching down beside her.

"Here. Like this."

The task took up the rest of the morning, and by the afternoon (and four more kills later) he was satisfied she could at least skin and gut the beasts. With skewers of fresh meat roasting over the stoked flames he leaned back onto his elbows, musing over their exact location and how best to get to Keeper Ordanus.

"Furr-rr."

He blinked, looking at her again. Her cheeks colored slightly, knowing she had mis-pronounced the trollish word terribly, pointing to the fire and attempting it again.

"Furr."

"Fi-re."

"Fai-urr."

"Better," he complimented, pleased beyond belief she was trying to speak his language. He chuckled softly at her embarrassment, pulling out his dagger for her to see.

"Knife."

"Nai-eve."

"You could say that again."

And thus began Iscah's language lessons.


	13. Chapter 13

It was well into evening before Iscah finally called for a cease-fire, falling back away from the troll with an exhausted sigh. Where she lacked in combat and survival skills she excelled in knowledge, and in the half a day of Apoch's teachings she had more than impressed him. It was a shock to him when he discovered she had the same accent to the words in real life that she did while she was dreaming, a trait Apoch hoped would never be corrected.

"You're sharp, I'll give you that," he purred to her. Iscah smiled shyly, curling up under the blanket and peering over the edge of the material at him. He stretched slowly before going to her as well, slipping beneath the cover and nuzzling against her back.

She had tensed at this intrusion, he could feel it in her limbs as he smoothed his hand over her arm. He crooned softly to her until he felt her relax a bit, not making anymore advances. Tonight, there was something else on his mind that would be dealt with. When she was asleep he stopped feigning his own rest, listening instead to her breaths deepen, the slender digits twitching ever slightly as her dreams began again. He sat up a bit to peer over her peaceful facade, brushing a tendril of hair away from her lips.

When he had finally accepted the fact he loved her he didn't know. He supposed it was when he knew Nezrial would in fact do what he had found himself not to. And the reality of the situation, that his life-mate was about to be taken from him forever, had finally won him over.

Her soft gasp roused him from the memories and he focused on her again.

"Iscah."

"Yes, my love?"

His heart thrilled for a moment at the response. Spoken in troll with that same alluring little accent of hers.

"From now on, you won't come in your dreams. No matter how close you get, it will be my touch, my body that makes you crest. Do you understand me?"

There was no response, but in the darkness he could sense the stress this command seemed to create. He hesitated, wondering if she would unconsciously obey him. With only one way to find out he slid his hand beneath her clothing, brushing his fingertips across her moist sex before sliding one digit into her.

The reaction was instantaneous; a flower blossoming open. He grit his teeth as his head swam from the sound she made, maddened with desire but refusing to take her against her will. Dreams or not, he would seduce her until she readily wanted him consciously.

"Now, wake up."

She obeyed, gaze foggy as her waking was followed by her climax not long after. She reached up and slipped her arms around his neck, raising herself to him, lips desperately seeking out his own. He gave her what she wanted, his kisses growing heated more and more, unaware that her own were dwindling as she realized it was no longer a dream but reality. He shifted his weight until he was on top of her, erection all but ripping his pants open for him as he released it and pressed it up against her soaked core.

Her cry stopped him in his tracks. It wasn't of pleasure any longer. She was back in the nightmare of her rape. He forced a ragged breath out, dropping his skull to rest his forehead on her shoulder, a low, guttural growl given when she tried to push him off.

"Please, no. Please," she whispered, the words shaking with her tears.

"Iscah."

He lifted his face to her own to kiss her once more, to seek out anything that he could take for passion, but there was nothing, her tiers yielding but trembling in fear. With a mournful groan he retreated, his organ aching painfully. Leaving the cave he took solace near the pond to relieve himself, mind a tumult of frustration and confusion.

He stretched out on a gigantic root that was level before it plunged into the waters, looking up through the scant opening in the canopy at the stars blanketed in haze. Perhaps too much damage had been done. Perhaps it was too late to ever gain her trust back, let alone her love. Yet so often when she didn't think he was aware he'd feel the weight of her gaze on him. Even when he was unconscious he had scant bits of memories of her body pressed up against his own when the fever was at its peak as he healed.

So it wasn't too late, he concluded with a long exhale, closing his eyes to try to get some sleep. He just needed to have patience with his skittish little lamb.

The sun had long risen by the time he finished his morning training, returning back to the pond drenched in sweat for a quick bath. It had been hard to concentrate, even with having taken care of himself the night before thoughts of how to seduce Iscah had interrupted his practices. With no teacher to reprimand him he did it himself, drilling twice as hard until his muscles were screaming in pain.

Leaping off the same root he had slept on the previous night he dove into the water, barely making a splash as he lengthened his body to be streamlined. Coming up for air he wiped the water out of his face, pausing when his sensitive ears caught the sound of a branch cracking followed by a short, nervous inhale. Glad for his hands covering his smile he kept his motions relaxed, shaking his head in a jerky movement to throw off the weight of the water from his hair before swimming in casual strokes to the shore. He waited until the water was well below his hips before standing up slowly, exposing himself to his wife who was hiding in the bushes not far off.

Keeping the air of ignorance he grabbed his bar of soap off the rock he had left it on the previous day, wading back into the pond only far enough so that he was thigh deep before turning slightly back in her direction, running the soap across the hard curves of his upper body before pushing a handful of lather into the sparse covering of red hair at his groin. In a last-minute decision he changed his movements, slowy rubbing his balls clean before taking his already growing member in his hand. Letting his head tilt back and eyes close he focused on listening to his wife; her breathing had fallen quiet for a moment before picking up again, knowing she was watching with rapt attention as he stroked himself.

He imagined her coming out of the bushes, slowly pulling off her clothes while he watched before sliding into the water with him. Thought of the feel of her hot skin against his before lifting her by the rump and settling her on his ready erection. Apoch exhaled shortly, pushing his hips into his palm before picking up the pace, matching his movements to the rhythm he would set of driving her body onto his shaft as she clung around his neck.

Out of view but not out of hearing Iscah's breaths had quickened, the leaves crackling slightly beneath her knees as she pressed them together tightly, trying to quell the ache that had begun at first sight of his naked form. She knew she should leave him to his privacy, but she couldn't stop watching as the troll rubbed the same member that plagued her in her dreams night after night. He murmured her name and her pulse skipped, realizing he was fantasizing about her. The color rose to her cheeks as she wondered what he was imagining, but the curiosity was cut short as her heart felt like it had exploded in her chest, the muscles of his stomach flexing into a washboard pattern as he gasped and curled up slightly with his orgasm, thick spurts of white arching out to vanish into the water.

Iscah's couldn't help but stare in shock; so much had come out she couldn't even begin to fathom how all of it had fit inside of her. The memory of feeling him cum suddenly wasn't a horrifying thought, but instead made her heart skip another beat. He squeezed the last bit of his essence out before backing away from the murky depths into cleaner water, dipping down to wash the suds away from his body. Iscah made her hasty escape in that moment, Apoch grinning as he heard her stumlbling retreat.

He hadn't expected her to join him, but to not touch herself while she watched? She must like torture much more than he had given her credit for, or the girl didn't know how to take care of herself. Either way, knowing she would spend the rest of the day wound up tighter than a spring would mean plenty more opportunities for him to take to his advantage.

Wrapping the towel around his slim hips he returned back to the cave to find their things packed, Iscah looking up to him as he came into view though he avoided her gaze. Grunting a thanks to her he pulled off his covering and slung it over the saddle, watching from his peripheral as she turned away sharply from him. Redressing in his leathers in plain sight he finally went back to Bu'u, slapping his side in greeting before tucking the damp cloth in a side pocket. She walked over to him, offering her bags as well for him to put atop the beast.

He flicked his eyes up to meet hers she held her breath for a moment, his fingertips barely grazing hers as he took the pack.

"Fuck-u jou."

He burst into laughter, having forgot that instead of teaching her 'good morning, good afternoon,' and 'goodnight' he had taught her foul phrases instead. The joke was lost to her.

"Good morning to you too, my little lamb." He leaned down and brushed her cheek with a tusk before slinging her two bags over Bu'u. She didn't pull away like normal but he pretended to ignore it, mastering his facial expression to hide his amusement.

Iscah fell in step beside the troll though she kept her gaze averted from him as much as possible, the warmth between her legs cooling and making every step even more torturous than the last. It made the confliction in her mind all the more harder not to focus on. He was a troll! A horde champion at that, and as if that wasn't enough he had tried to kill her. So why the attraction? Unconsciously her attention slid back to him, watching the easy way he walked beside Bu'u. Even though his body seemed relaxed there was something intense in his eyes when they slid to lock onto hers, an expectation of some sorts she couldn't place. She looked away again quickly, biting her lower lip to aleviate her embarassment for getting caught staring at him.

So flustered by the compulsive guilt she didn't notice the root arching out of the ground, and caught it dead in the shin. Her faceplant was stopped by Apoch who snagged her, drawing her back onto her feet easily. His palm slid across her breast as he let her go, and it brought another pulse of adrenaline shooting through her limbs. If he had meant to touch her so intimately he showed no signs of it, lifting up the hem of her dress only high enough to address the small scrape her run-in with the root had left on her shin. Glancing up at her he shrugged, rising again smoothly and continuing onwards after offering a reassurance in trollish that she only understood half of, but got the jist for the most part.

When his back was turned she rubbed at her chest furiously, trying to get her nipples that had hardened so quickly at the accidental touch to go back down. She had never felt this awkward around any man, but then again she had never had such shocking dreams about one either. The mere thought of the dreams sent a shiver down her spine, and she growled in frustration at the feeling. Apoch shot her a questioning glance and she pointed to her shin for an excuse, the color on her cheeks deepening when he stopped with an irritated sigh, pulling out a canteen and motioning to a rock off the game trail. Iscah sat down on it and he picked up her foot, lifting it so her shin was level to pour the water over the scratch, the coolness of the liquid soothing the minor ache though it did little for the one in her belly.

"Ting? _Good?_"

"Tor," she nodded, keeping her gaze away from him miserably. He offered her a hand up and she took it, walking beside him in silence. When her mind began to wander towards more lusty thoughts again she took a ragged breath, pointing to a tree instead and repeating the zandali translation for the species he had taught her the day previous. Apoch blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in her behavior, nodding though and pointing to a bush.

"Okk?"

"Munzlu," she responded, wincing when he tisked impatiently.

"Mun'zulu," he corrected, and she repeated it to herself before he pointed to another thing. It passed the time much more swiftly, and before she knew it it was mid afternoon. Apoch pointed to himself and Iscah grinned impishly.

"_Godehsi," _she drawled, her pronounciation absolutely perfect, Apoch tossing his head back as he laughed at her insult. After she had figured out his morning greeting had actually been a foul phrase it had been easier to break down the other two salutations, isolating what she presumed was the trollish derivation of asshole.

"Sca wha?" He asked, pointing to her. Iscah thought a moment before remembering the word for woman, but he shook his head at her answer.

"Im; tjulu."

She blinked at the new word, and he moved closer to her, cupping her face in his hand gently. There was a warmth to his eyes as he leaned down, brushing his thumb over her cheek when she froze.

"Tjulu," he repeated softly, his gaze roaming over the features of her face. "Wha weh tjulu."

Iscah could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, and she stepped back from him shyly, murmuring her thanks at the compliment. There was little doubt he didn't give them often. He chuckled and dropped his hand, going to Bu'u and offloading their bags for the night. Tossing them on the ground he jerked his head in her direction and Bu'u complied, stretching out his legs before nuzzling Iscah fondly. She giggled and scratched at his neck, the raptor leaning into her petting with a gurgle of delight. When Iscah looked up the troll was gone, paying it no mind as she unpacked their two sleeping rolls and set to making a fire with his flint and tinder. Bu'u rolled onto his back in the dirt and wiggled around with joyous grunts as she stoked the tiny flames into a healthy fire.

Apoch reappeared with two pheasants already cleaned and gutted, skewering them over the embers the fire had burned down to while he had been out hunting. He pulled out the extra blanket they had been using as a towel and motioned to Iscah, who rose to follow him. Not far off was a small stream, but the water was clear and fast-running. Apoch stripped down quickly, calling out to Iscah when she turned away. She shook her head demurely at his offer but he caught her arm when she made to head back to the camp, pulling her towards him.

"Im!" She tried to snake out of his grasp though it was futile, the troll ignoring her angry glare and undressing her with alarming ease. Her breaths quickened in a mixture of fright, eagerness and horror at the thought of wanting to feel his touch.

"A'kee," he crooned, his voice a gentle caress against her ear. He wrapped his hands around her arms, squeezing the ache out of her muscles while he repeated the word slowly. When she relaxed Apoch unwound the wrapped bindings covering her chest but didn't try to take off her loincloth, stepping back and pulling her with him into the water that barely was above his knees. He scooped up a handful and dumped it over her shoulders, wetting her skin down though she stood with her arms crossed painfully tight over her chest.

"A'kee, tor?"

"Im, Im, IM!" She snapped back, and he shrugged nonchalantly, picking up the soap he had brought with him to wash her with. Iscah turned away from him obstinately, shrugging off his fingers when he ran the soap down her shoulderblades. He snaked his slippery hands across her limbs despite her choked snarls of insubordination, clearly amused at her distress. When he had her soaped up even with her best efforts to block him he pulled her to his chest and pinned her arms against her breasts with his own, his other hand delving down between her legs. She gasped as a jolt of warmth shot through her body at his touch, her knees buckling so that he was holding her up. The quick, cleaning movements became slower, more delicate at her response, his tusk rubbing against her scalp as he leaned his lips down again to her ear.

"Ting?" The purr of his voice held the promise of what he could do to her, and despite herself she moaned at his caresses, writhing slightly. He stopped teasing her suddenly though his fingers didn't move away, obviously waiting for an answer to his question. She wanted so badly to tell him yes. It would be so easy to do, just a simple nod, but instead to her surprise she shook her head minutely.

Apoch chuckled at her stubborness, snagging her feet out from under her and dumping her unceremoniously into the water though he cushioned her fall, the chilly stream sucking the breath out of her. He laughed when she struggled back up to her feet and leapt out of the water, grabbing her dress and wrapping it around her hastily before stomping back to the camp in humiliation. It was ridiculous how he could make her feel so helpless, and the thought brought a sting to her eyes. She rubbed at them before tugging on the dress, Bu'u popping out of the underbrush with a rabbit tail sticking out of his mouth. He gnawed at it and it bobbed like a pacifier, aleviating some of her brooding as she watched his antics.

"I thought you were suppose to protect me, you brute."

The raptor cocked his head to the side and continued to suckle on the fluffy tail, Iscah pulling off the cooked pheasant from over the fire. Apoch returned soon after, dropping his clothes onto the ground and flopping out on the bed she had rolled out for him. He grinned boyishly at her when she glared at him, muttering about how horrid trollish charm was before focusing back on the cooled meat.

Night had fallen when they were done eating, and Apoch rolled onto his side and propped his head on his palm, eyes distant on the flames. Iscah had long learned that meant he was listening for any signs of danger, his pose relaxed enough to tell her there was none for the time being. Laying down on her blanket she turned her back to him, biting the inside of her lip in trepidation of hearing him move. When no sound came after a few moments she peeked over her shoulder, the troll having closed his eyes and chest rising slowly in sleep. Disconcerted with her disapointment she shuffled into a more comfortable position to try to get some rest.

When she was at the edge of sleep she heard Apoch get up finally, drawing the covers up and sliding his long form against the back of hers. She sighed with relief, turning to kiss him when he leaned down over her, exploring her body above her dress before finally moving beneath it, pushing between her legs and sinking into her when he found she was ready for him. The ache became unbearable as she came closer to a release, her cry waking her suddenly from the dream.

She sat up with a gasp, doubling over as the pleasure fell away, leaving her in physical pain.

Instinctively she looked towards Apoch. The troll had rolled onto his back though he was wide awake, crimson hues locked onto her flickering gold and burgundy in the light of the fire he had restoked. Still he had not put his leathers back on, and his organ rested heavily and ready for her along his stomach. That same look of expectation was on his face from earlier that day, and she turned away from him rigidly to curl up on her side. Without even pressing it she knew he wouldn't let her touch herself, as if she had any idea how to. All of this was designed to make her want him, and she could feel her resolution dissintegrating with every pulse of need that made her tremor.

When morning finally did come after a night of fitfull sleep and traitorous dreams she woke to what felt like a fever, staying quiet and skipping on breakfast of roasted tubers sweetened with sugary leaves. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and when he pressed the back of his fingers against her neck she shuddered deeply, the worry in his gaze shifting to affection when she leaned into his hand. Offering soothing words he rose, finishing packing without so much as a glance back to her before picking up the game trail heading north.

By mid-afternoon the rains had returned, though the high canopy gave them shelter for a good while. When they stepped into a small clearing Apoch glanced back to her to ask if she wanted his water-proof cloak, but his voice caught in his throat at the sight.

She had her head cast to the stormy skies to let the rain wash over her closed eyes, the thin cotton dress she was wearing soaked from the downpour, molding to her figure. What was worse was that it had become translucent, the pink areolas clearly visible against the clinging garment and dark crevasse below her waist shadowed. He looked away quickly and swallowed the lump in his throat, not aware she had paused until he heard her call to him.

He stopped in his tracks and tilted his head to glance back at her.

She seemed to be in a state of thought for a moment, the azure pools of open emotion a deeper color of blue than he remembered ever seeing them be. With tentative fingers she reached behind her, undoing the dress awkwardly before peeling it off her skin and letting it drop to the ground. He swayed slightly at the turn of events, letting his raptor go before walking to her as slowly as he could muster. Her lips were pursed indecisively as if she still wasn't really sure of what she was doing in the first place, but in her eyes he found the one thing he had been trying for; desire.

The gap closed between them and he towered over her, crimson hues leaving her gaze so that he could nuzzle against her soaked hair, fingertips caressing the small of her back before moving down across her rump.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He whispered huskily into her ear, shivering as her response was to move up against him. He stooped a bit to slide his hand further down and between her legs from behind. The rest of her body was cool to the touch save for the little secretive feminine triangle, the heat there emanating against his fingertips as he rubbed it slowly, her breaths quickening.

"I won't be able to stop this time."

She kissed his shoulder before pulling away a bit, fingers traversing up his chest and slowly began to undo his armor. It had taken a while to undress him when he was unconscious, but now the bloodfang regalia he wore was easy enough to shed away from him this second attempt, especially since he was standing. He stood motionless, letting his hands fall away from her again as she pushed the armor off, watching as she studied his figure with eyes and touch alike. He shuddered as her explorations struck sensitive places on his upper body, closing his eyes in concentration. It was becoming harder and harder not to lose himself in maddened lust for her, to take her wildly. But this was the chance he had been waiting for, and this time he would make it right.

He felt her hands slip across his face and over his tusks, drawing him down by them to touch her lips to his own before her tongue followed suite. Wrapping her up in his arms he went to one knee, guiding her body to the ground, his mouth leaving hers to kiss a tender trail down to her breast before rubbing her hard nipple with his tongue, sucking it between his teeth when she whimpered. Apoch was not foreign to a female's body, the up-side to being a high warlord. The benefits, along with the gear, had included being one of the most sought after rogues for both business and pleasure. But beyond experience he felt something with Iscah that had never been there with other females. He felt connected to her.

Her experience was his own, his senses affected as her pleasure ebbed and flowed in rising strength. Trailing his hand feather lightly down the spanse of her tummy he slid it between her legs, the slick feel of her arousal covering the pads of his fingers so that he could push a digit into her. Even one was nearly too much for her body, though he delved further until he felt the end of her channel before pulling it back and repeating the process, stretching her in slow increments while at the same time teasing her. When she had nearly come he pulled away, an exasperated cry from his lover making him chuckle when he licked his fingers clean. He sat up and began to untie the laces of his pants, the outline of his member straining against the material drawing her eyes down. When he had freed himself she grew skittish at the sight.

Even by troll standards, he was big. In human proportions he doubted any of the males were even near to his length and girth. Regardless of being ready or not, it was going to be painful for the girl but in his mind, that was half the fun. For all common sense there was no way he could fit without splitting her apart, but he knew from when he had taken her by force he could. The memory shamed and excited him all at the same time. She skirted back a bit as he crawled atop her but he stopped her backwards progression with a gentle hand, hushing her softly as he ground his hips against her own teasingly.

When she relaxed a bit he began to rub his length against the senstive petals of flesh above her opening. Iscah gasped in shock at the subtle change, but he didn't force entry, slow movements still pleasuring her without causing pain. The worry faded away again from her face, replaced with color as her climax neared. When her breath caught and she arched up against him he pushed into her, melding her orgasm with pain so that neither were dulled. His own breath rattled in his chest at the sensation, bottoming out not even halfway into her. Tightening his grip on her shoulder he forced himself deeper and her body complied, fitting him in his entirety. He stared down at her in surprise, unable to fathom how that was even possible before her channel clenched around his organ in after-effects of her orgasm. Lifting his hips he slid out though not completely, setting a slow rhythm to try to ease her pain though blood was already tinging his scrotum pink. His own orgasm came so unexpectantly he cried out, slamming himself against her cervix as he released days worth of sexual frustration into her before his arms buckled and he collapsed atop of her.

He didn't pull away initially, breaths hard against the side of her temple as he regained composure, his smile growing at the sight of her dazed expression. The corners of her plush tiers etched into a vague smile in response, and she lifted her head to kiss him.

As he pressed his lips against hers he realized there would be no going back after this. He could've cared less.


	14. Chapter 14

The rain had ceased when Apoch decided to set up camp in the woods not far from the clearing, knowing the small meadow was a better spot and thus probably more prone to be a stop for alliance. The brush would give them cover, and now that he knew her family was looking for her it would be even more important to remain unseen.

Bu'u brought them a small deer he had hunted down while Iscah had built a fire and he a lean-to made out of evergreen boughs in case of more rain. He waited with squirming impatience as the troll showed his mate how to dress the carcass and where the best cuts of meat were. When they had taken their choice of venison for dinner he grunted to the raptor and Bu'u fell on the meal with a predators abandon.

Apoch left the meat by the fire and guided Iscah deeper into the forest, the two pointing out various objects to each other so that he could give her the trollish word for them and gathering herbs to season the steaks in. As they ventured further into the deeper recesses of the forest, Apoch paused, looking around suddenly at the trees. He canted his head, long ears capable of hearing an owls flight honing in on the towers, listening to their slow song before taking his wifes hand and heading purposefully towards a grove where trees so ancient they were as large as houses stood. The near pitch darkness their massive, intertwined branches caused soon gave way to a cool azure glow, the moonwell they guarded coming into view as they stepped into the clearing.

Iscah exhaled with awe, letting go of his hand to walk up to it, watching as the shallow waters' light played aquatic lines over her dress. These rare pools she had read about, their healing and magical properties used by the most powerful artists and crafters.

Apoch moved up behind her, nuzzling his tusks against her shoulder before unfastening her robe. She turned to face him, shaking her head shyly as she pulled away.

"I'll be good," he teased, drawing her back and finishing his task. Setting her clothes aside he stepped into the calf-deep pool, motioning for her to sit on the stone ledge surrounding it before crouching in the water and cupping his hand to draw some of it out, holding for her to drink.

She hesitated for a moment before taking a sip from his palm, humming at the flavor that was even clearer than the springs she had called on through the barrens. He smiled at her approval, lowering his hand between her legs to let the water drip over her soft down. Iscah flinched, back straightening slightly as his fingers slid between her folds, though she relaxed with a sigh when the liquid began to ease the ache their coupling had caused.

"Thought you might appreciate that," he murmured, watching the relief take on an edge as he massaged her sex slowly. He dipped his free hand in the water and traced his fingers over the faint purple ring still surrounding one of her eyes and the scab hidden in her hair, pretending to ignore her breathlessness as he absently focused on soaking her wounds.

She gasped suddenly, letting her head tilt back as a strong wave of warmth shot through her body, and he leaned in to kiss the line of her collar bone up to her throat as she nuzzled her face into his hand, exposing the swiftly pulsing jugular in her neck. He watched it, mesmerized before pressing his razor sharp canines against her skin either side of the vein, fighting the urge to puncture the diaphonous barrier. A deep shudder ran through him at the overwhelming desire, and he released the pressure only to move his lips to her shoulder and sink his upper fangs into the flesh there. Iscah cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, spreading her legs apart as he slid a digit into her, her fingers slipping through the feathery hair at the nape of his neck as his mouth locked on the wound to drink her blood.

It was freeing to be able to release the ancient cravings of his ancestors. He had never felt the urge to taste any of his lovers before nor even entertained the thought of it. The Darkspears had strictly enforced an anti-cannibalism mentality in the tribe, but it seemed with the evacuation of their homeland they had lost their enthusiasm for the macabre ritual anyways. He couldn't understand why as he swallowed another mouthful; each drink made him feel stronger, powerful enough to destroy anything or anyone that would try to hurt his mate.

Her nails dug into his scalp as her whole body locked up, calling out his name as she came swiftly, the after-tremors causing her to spasm as he pulled his finger out and sucked it clean, savoring the mixture of the sweet taste of her sex with the salty blood.

He was more than content with just pleasing her, but one look from his wife and he knew that it wouldn't be enough. She pushed his folded legs apart to slide into the arch of his body, pulling his face down to hers by his tusks to kiss his lips. He growled low at her newfound confidence, feeling her mouth hesitate on his as she tasted herself before pushing him off balance. Apoch rolled onto his lower back smoothly so that there was no splash, propping his upper body above the water with locked elbows and waching as she crawled on top of him and began untying his leather pants. When the cool water hit his burning member he visibly shuddered, reaching up to trace the back of his finger tips against the undersides of her breast as she dipped down to kiss him again, taking him in her hands. She guided him into her, his kisses faltering at the sensation as they joined.

"This brings a new meaning to corrupting a moonwell," he muttered, letting his head fall back so that his hair played in the currents as she began to work herself on his erection. He had to focus on not coming too quickly, wanting her to come again before he did, but after the second crash of pleasure he noticed she exhaled sharply with frustration. The third time he focused on holding back he was aware of her body on top of his growing rigid as she neared, and the exasperation when it passed. She reached out and smacked him upside the head pointedly, and he blinked in surprise.

She knew. How the hell did she know and he hadn't put two and two together? Was that why his orgasms seemed more intense than he ever remembered them to be?

Iscah glared a warning at him as she bounced up and down his length, and he gave her a impish grin to make her wonder what his choice on letting her climax this time or not would be. The skepticism vanished as she neared again, and Apoch could feel the thunder of pleasure roaring up through his body. At the last moment he shut it down, clentching his teeth together in concentration before snagging her hand when she made to bat at him again. He jerked her down and let her hand go to wrap his around her back, pumping into her steadily as she gasped. It was a game he wasn't about to lose, and as he kept her body on razor edge of an orgasm he could feel his body seeping more and more small doses of his essence into her. She cried out at the torture, trembling with anticipation of being able to come.

"You want it? Beg me," he growled between pants, his grip on her waist hard enough to leave bruises were it not for the waters they were in.

"Please, Apoch. Please," she whimpered, her lips nibbling at his ear he had pressed against her cheek, whispering the word over and over again like a mantra. He tried to pull his face away but she didn't relent, warm tongue snaking across his lobe distracting him a moment too long. A feral snarl rose from his throat, baring his fangs at her as he lost control, slamming his member as deep as he would go as he released jet after jet of his seed into her. His wife cried out unabashed, small nails digging into his leather chestpiece as she came as well, her body spasming with the release she had been denied for so long. They both took a moment to catch their breath before sharing a look.

Apoch smiled back warmly, sliding fully out of her before taking one last plunge into her body, pushing the moonwell water into her to heal any other aches she might have. Iscah glanced to him out of the corner of her eyes and he snorted a laugh, pulling out of her and standing up. They would be here all night if he wasn't careful.

Bu'u was snoring noisily with his distented belly in the air, a hind leg kicking the oversized sickle claw as he dreamed about hunting when they returned. Apoch nudged him with his foot but the raptor just flopped over on his side with a grunt without waking.

Wrapping the meat with the fresh herbs he set it directly on the coals of the campfire, the heat searing the flesh so that it could cook in its own juices. Iscah moaned with delight at its flavor when it was finally ready, though Apoch thought it tasted like ash in comparison to her.

When morning broke they had cold leftovers before erasing as many signs of their stay as possible, cutting through the woods that parellelled a main path to the north before pausing at a main thuroughfare that ran the whole of ashenvale east to west. Apoch used his daggers like talons to climb up a tree, pausing to listen and stare in both directions before pushing off the trunk and free falling thirty feet down. Iscah stared at him in awe when he stood up smoothly and resheathed his weapons, unphased by the fact not only had he just scaled a vertical wall effortlessly but had made the drop without so much as a wince. It was a task she wouldn't even dream of let alone attempt.

He jerked his head to her and they crossed the empty road, Bu'u pausing to sniff the air before yipping shortly to the troll. Apoch nodded to him and he slipped into the trees to the west, out of sight in a matter of moments. Touching the small of Iscah's back he pointed to a large solitary tree that had a walkway spiraling up its side.

"Ordanus is up at the top, I'll follow you," he explained, pushing her gently forward. She took the hint and nodded, heading towards it. It was easy to see why he had sent her ahead; Night Elf druids that had come seeking communion with the son of Cenarius as well as the dryads were milling about in various states of meditation, a few looking up at the mage as she passed though none questioned her.

A deer with the torso of an elf stepped forward as she reached the tree, bowing respectfully to her.

"Greetings, mage. Keeper Ordanus has been expecting you since yesterday."


	15. Chapter 15

Iscah blinked, bobbing her head back in greeting and wringing her hands nervously as she realized she had been making a demi-god wait. He smiled reassuringly, turning to lead her up the narrow path into the cavernous room that had been hollowed out near where the trunk branched out.

Ordanus looked similar to his guard, though there were subtle changes that held him apart from the lesser creatures. Ferns had grown like a wreath around where his human-like torso met the beginnings of his deer-shaped body, moss intermingled in his glossy brown pelt sprouting the most delicate white flowers Iscah had ever seen to give him fawn dappling.

Even animals had found a home in the diety; small finches played among his crown of antlers before ducking into the thick mantle of pine green hair that fell to the small of his back. He turned to her when she entered, his smile moreso for an old friend than for a girl he had never met.

"Iscah! I assume Apoch is here with us as well?"

The troll stepped out of nothingness beside his wife, his cowl pulled down over his features so that his eyes were hidden and daggers out in an ominous gesture. Ordanus' smile grew somber at his entrance, bowing his head in a much more respectful greeting than Apoch had given him despite the fact his two guards were shying closer to their charge.

"Peace my sons, you couldn't protect me from him anyways." He turned to face the High Warlord, touching a medicine pouch hanging around his neck.

"There is no need for violence."

Apoch flinched, clearly surprised that the dryad could speak trollish. He pulled his cowl back, eyes narrowing on Ordanus. "And how is it a halfling can speak my language?"

"I am not without means" Ordanus replied, fingering the pouch pointedly. "You and Iscah can both understand me when I talk while touching this."

Apoch grunted. "I've come for a dagger."

"I know," Ordanus replied, not moving. "I cannot let you have it."

Apoch's eyes blazed at the statement, unsheathing his daggers slowly. "You're acting like you have a choice on this matter, Ordanus. I have no qualms slicing your throat open in front of my wife, if you're thinking her presence here will have any effect on that statement."

"It is not what you think it is, just as Triki is not who you think he is."

"Really now, care to explain?"

Ordanus hesitated, thinking it over before shaking his head, upsetting a pair of finches who flittered into his antlers to perch. "I can't, because I do not know for sure. I've tried to follow the history of the relic you are asking for but it's origins are far beyond the world's memory."

"Then I suggest you give me the weapon," he replied back ominously, taking a step closer. Ordanus' hind leg moved a step back, and he looked at the troll for a moment before sighing with defeat, turning to the wall and brushing his digits across the wood. The grain twisted, splitting open to reveal a small alcove that he reached into, taking out the blade and turning back to Apoch.

The troll moved closer to look as Ordanus held it out to him to inspect. The entire thing was carved out of a single piece of what looked like bone, though it had a mother-of-pearl sheen to it, the hilt wrapped in ancient, cracking leather to keep its wielder's grip from slipping. The blades double-edge was covered with ancient markings, ones that even in his studies he had never come across, a black triangle dyed into the base and teardrop pattern etched out before the angled tip. His gaze moved to the tuft of red hair that was tied to the guard, knowing it served multiple purposes as both a distraction to the enemy and a means to keep some of the blood away from the weilders grasp. It wasn't any type of hair he had seen though; when it swung the follicles in the light shifted to a deep, pure gold.

"That's it? That's what Triki sent us out here for?" He took it from Ordanus, looking it over with disappointment before tossing it onto the ground. "It's useless!"

Iscah picked it up to study the design curiously, running her thumb over the blunt edge and gasping when it cut her instantly. He balked, looking at his wife's thumb that was now covered in blood and then to the weapon as the runes suddenly shifted from black to red.

Dark, inky tendrils of magic seeped out of the triangle to wrap the entire weapon in its grasp. Burning crimson eyes came to the surface of the now reflective blade, focusing on Apoch. The reflection cracked, refracting the eyes into thousands, some staying on him though most turned to stare at Iscah.

"_I see you_._" _The voice was so deep it made his bones vibrate despite how quiet it was, raising the hackles on the back of his neck.

Iscah yelped, aware suddenly she couldn't release her grip on the hilt, the blood now pouring from her thumb arching through the air unnaturally to seep into the fissures of the weapon. He reached to try to help dislodge her hand from it, but when his fingers touched the bone the room darkened suddenly, as if light too were being consumed by the blade.

They were both aware that there was something with them, though nothing could be seen. Its power was almost tangible even to the rogue who had little dealings with magic, and the overwhelming feeling of something standing right behind him made his skin crawl. Involuntarily he lashed out with the dagger, cutting an arch through the darkness that caused it to collapse back into the blade. It clattered to the floor, benign once again.

"What was that, a demon?!"

Ordanus stared at it in shock for a moment, looking back up to the two. "I don't know, it had shown no signs of having magical properties."

Apoch gave a hiccup of a laugh, stepping back away from the dagger even moreso. Iscah dragged her eyes off the relic to Ordanus, unable to help her curiosity.

"I've heard of spirits and demons being trapped into items, could that be it?"

"It might be, but every weapon has an aura that can tell you its capabilities. That's the thing with this dagger, there is _no_ aura to it at all, not even a natural one that all normal things have."

Iscah shuddered at the information, knowing how dangerous such a thing could be. Apoch took a deep breath, scratching the back of his head before crouching down and reaching out, hesitating for a moment before poking the dagger. It didn't react. He waited a moment before lingering his touch on the hilt, picking it up and waiting for something else to happen. When nothing did he shrugged back to the two that were holding their breath in anticipation.

"Perhaps Triki would know."

"My guess is you're right." He winced at the thought, setting the dagger down on the desk and wrapping it in a piece of leather used moreso for parchment. The thought of physical contact with the thing was more than he could stomach at the moment. Magic was for the spellweavers, not blade-wielders like himself.

He nodded curtly to Ordanus, motioning to Iscah before vanishing once again. Iscah hesitated, curtseying to the dryad.

"Thank you for your help, I'm sorry if we caused you any issues."

"Not at all child," he responded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I hope it brings you protection in your time of need. May Cenarius bless you."

She smiled wanly, taking her leave. Apoch and Bu'u appeared back beside her when they were out of sight of the living temple, the troll burying the dagger into a bag before looking back to the human.

"Triki?" She inquired.

"Yeah, back to Triki."


	16. Chapter 16

A cacaphony woke Iscah who bolted upright, sleepy eyes wide with shock as she watched a tree fall not far off. Apoch was standing over the stump, inspecting the white dagger with a little more respect than he had given it the day previously. From the looks of the cuts in the pale wood, it had only taken two swipes to fell the two-foot thick tree.

She groaned at the realization it was still pre-dawn, the patches of sky visible between the canopy a depressing shade of gray. She was used to waking up early, but the troll obviously was used to running on little if any sleep. It was the same for his diet she had decided as well. If her peers had thought she ate like a bird, Apoch ate like the dead in comparison. It was nutrient rich food, but not a lot of it. She paused at the thought, remembering suddenly that he had eaten three times as much stew as she had at Triki's cave. So it was a matter of weight versus food then, and having enough discipline to go on little if anything. She had a lot to learn about this living out in the wilderness thing.

Apoch interrupted her musings by straddling her form hidden beneath the blanket and nuzzling his face into her hair until she pushed him away with a short laugh, the troll taking the blanket along with him as he gave in to her shove. Iscah grumbled and curled up into a little ball, trying to save the last bit of warmth sleep had given her.

"Good morning, Iscah."

"Morning, my love."

He grunted with approval at her language progression before busying himself with finding their breakfast of dried venison strips in the bags. Iscah noticed the bone blade was sitting in his sheath at his hip, and his lip curled with disgust when she asked him about it.

"I don't know, my dagger just up and vanished. When I woke up this morning, this damn thing was in the scabbard instead."

Before the sun had even risen they were on the move again to the south, though Iscah noted that they weren't retracing their steps.

"Off path?"

"Hm?" Apoch glanced back at her. "Yes, different route. Just in case."

Iscah frowned, tugging on Bu'u's reigns absently as she thought over his words carefully.

"Why?"

She caught him wincing at the question, dragging a hand through his hair before he stopped and turned to her.

"The Alliance are looking for you," he replied back after a moment, dismissing her confused look with a wave of his hand. "Your Father wants to bring you home."

"No go home, _im_ _so worl. _With you." She let Bu'u go to move to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. A tension she hadn't realized he had relaxed as he slipped his arms around her as well and buried his face against her hair. So he had thought she would be happy to go home? Was that the worry?

"My husband," she murmured, the weight of the title as always sending a small bolt of warmth up her spine. He turned his face, smoothing a warm tusk across her jawline before pulling away just far enough to meet her gaze. "My love."

His crimson hues warmed at her words, leaning down to brush his lips against hers tenderly. His gentleness was just as much as a shock as his taste for pain had been, and the joining of the two had been almost beyond her abilities to understand until the moonwell. When he had bit her shoulder, she had felt something yield inside of her magic, a joining of physical and supernatural that she had yet to understand. The pain had been so brief before it had vanished altogether, long before the water had healed the wounds. Not drowned out by the things he had done to her body afterwards, but simply gone.

The memory of that evening sent another stronger jolt through her limbs, and he responded to it as if he knew where her thoughts had strayed, kiss deepening until she could feel his sharp canines rake against her tongue harmlessly.

Bu'u's sharp call of warning came too late, Apoch surging forward unbalanced for a moment against her, nearly toppling over the both of them had it not been for Iscah's embrace. She caught sight of an elven arrow sticking out of his back before she was jerked off her feet, Apoch crashing to the ground near her as Truvien slammed a gauntlet-covered fist into the troll's jaw.

Truvien jerked backwards as the troll reacted faster than he had anticipated, daggers out and carving through the air for his throat. The human was vaguely aware he wasn't going to have his sword drawn out in time to block the attack, but the hunters proved their worth in that moment, another arrow hissing right by his ear to slam into the troll's chest and knock the wind out of him, collapsing his left lung. It bought him enough time to bring his sword up and parry the faltering swing, dodging the other blade he hadn't even seen coming from his side unintentionally as he stumbled backwards.

The raptor launched into the fray to fight by his master, but an arrow caught him through the heart, dropping the beast instantly.

"Stop! Truvien, no!"

Iscah had seen a glimpse of Apoch's skills as a blade wielder against Nezrial, but it had been too dark to make out much save for the speed of the strikes. Now in daylight it was unmistakeable how deadly her mate truly was. Even with two arrows piercing his body he was still causing Truvien to retreat, pushing the main threat away from her, just like he had done with Nezrial. She caught sight of two night elf hunters sighting onto the troll once more and scrambled to her feet, screaming the words to a fiery barrier that surrounded Apoch for a moment before flashing out of existence as their arrows struck it and burned to ash instantly. If he noticed the save, he didn't react, his attacks becomming strained as the adrenaline began to wear off. Calling on the elements she turned towards the band of archers, the spell of ice cutting off abruptly as a sharp pain in the back of her head caused her vision to explode into stars.

Apoch's attention snapped to the rogue who had Iscah in his grasp, the warrior using the momentary distraction to his advantage and striking the troll, catching his arm and severing it from his body. The limb dropped to the ground with a sickening thud, Apoch screaming in pain and rage as he realized they were hopelessly outnumbered. He took another swing at the troll though he ducked it, lunging towards the rogue holding Iscah before stumbling onto his knees, a gutteral snarl escaping him as he crawled on his three remaining limbs toward the other human. Truvien caught up to him easily, grabbing a handful of the crimson, wiry hair and wrenching his head back with enough force to nearly rip it out.

"Don't worry monster. She'll be cleansed and I'll take her back in my mercy," he whispered, wrapping his arm around the front of the troll and resting his sword on the his shoulder to slice his exposed throat open. Apoch flung his remaining dagger at the rogue, catching the human off guard and through the esophagus. He let Iscah go to claw at the bone blade uselessly, the mage having come back to her senses attacking Truvien immediately. A blast of flame blazed across his arm wielding the cruel weapon, melding skin with plate armor. He screamed in pain, letting Apoch go who reached backwards to grab the knife out of his unattached hand.

The close sound of metal impacting flesh stopped him in his tracks, blood flecking his face from the sword tip that was poised over him. Iscah tried to take a breath, but the weapon she was impaled on made it difficult. Truvien backhanded her off the blade, his face contorted in fury at the girls sacrifice for the troll.

Apoch enraged, blinded to any sense of pain or control as he attacked like a berserker. Another bolt slammed into his back before his dagger could sink into the distracted warrior's neck, sending him sprawling forward and past his target. The human's elbow cracked into the back of his skull in an attempt to knock him out but it only succeeded in dropping the troll to the ground.

Truvien looked up suddenly when a red glow caught his eye, the dagger in the rogue's throat having gone from white to crimson. He watched it contort, the runes running together like ink before spreading out in an almost organic pattern before cracking open, talons split through the opening, the dagger suddenly becomming a rift that was being opened from the other side.

He grabbed Iscah off the ground roughly and went to his horse who was pacing nervously, the whites of his eyes exposed as the animal watched the demi-god's release. A roar shook the earth and Truvien looked back, catching a glimpse of a six-armed, deep blue troll djinn grab a hunter, her screams cut short as he bit serrated fangs into her body and tore her corpse into two pieces like she was a loaf of bread.

He tossed Iscah across his saddle and mounted, kicking his steed who needed no goading into their escape.

"Iscah!" Apoch tried to rise again, but he was too weak to even get to his knees let alone stand, dragging himself to the nearest tree as chaos broke loose around him. Jin'ral roared again, uprooting a tree out of his way that a hunter was hiding behind like it was a stick and flinging it aside, grabbing the night elf even as he released as many arrows as he could before popping like an overripe tomato in the djinn's taloned hands. Everywhere the arrow had struck, mouths formed, gobbling the foreign objects into splinters and consuming them into his skin before vanishing once more.

If the troll was aware of the carnage breaking out around him, he showed no signs of it. His wounds were causing his mind to systematicly shut down, trying to launch his body into survival mode. A dismembered corpse dropped next to him; the upper portions of a male body by the looks of it, vision turning from the stump of an arm he was holding a soaked hand to, blood pattering off the angles of his fingers, knuckles and elbow falling like rain to the ground as he leaned over to rip off a piece of cloth on the shredded arm. He leaned down to grab the edge of the material he had tied off as a makeshift tourniquette above the dismemberment with his teeth, though this proved a difficult task with the arrow bulging out of his chest. With a gurgled gasp he finally succeeded, fingers slipping on the wet cloth as he tried to pull it tighter to staunch the flow of blood.

How long he sat there in a daze he didn't know, but steps finally brought him out of the lull of shock. He looked up sluggishly at the tauren standing before him, mind too desensitized to register surprise at the sight of his kind, or the fact Jin'ral had vanished. The young shaman surveyed the only survivor in shock, glancing to the corpse of a night elf hunter dangling in the boughs of a tree nearby with her missing head ripped off.

"What in the name of the Great Mother happened here?"

"My w-wife," he rasped, the blood in his mouth that had welled up from his internal wounds making it difficult to talk let alone breathe.

"Hush, High Warlord. You must save your strength to live," He interjected, realizing the extent of the trolls injuries quickly.

The shaman kneeled next to him, his hands pressed against the dying rogues chest pulsing with green light. Apoch felt his spirit stir, flesh mending itself under the direction of the young tauren. The nub of an arm began to lengthen, returning to its original form before it had been separated from its host. His savior paused, jerking out the multitude of arrows in his patient unceremoniously before continuing his work. Apoch felt the claws of drowsiness begin to drag him under as his body was restored, but he had no strength left to fight the need for rest.

"Iscah..."


	17. Chapter 17

Iscah woke to the twitter of finches from outside the house she was in. Opening her eyes to the mid-days shaded light she looked around at the elvish domicile before her gaze went to the silvery cuffs binding her wrists together. They were delicate, but the appearance was belying; the runes inscribed on the metal would not allow her to cast any magic. A movement at the door caught her eye, the night elf guard on duty eyeing her with barely hidden disgust before walking out of sight. She sat up, wincing as her body screamed in protest at the movement, looking down to the fresh robes she was in, the wound obviously having been healed by a priest or druid.

Truvien ducked into the dwelling, stopping to watch the distrust build in her gaze before he sat down in the only chair in the one-roomed building across from her.

"You gave us all a scare, disappearing like that," he began, looking down to his gauntlet and toying with one of the edges. "Your father and I had thought you had been abducted. Imagine my surprise when I found out you had gone willingly, imagine your Father's dishonor."

He laughed half heartedly, cold dark eyes turning to her to watch the acusation of his words sink in. "And then to find out you had defiled yourself with not only a disgusting monster, but a murdering one at that. I know whores who have higher standards than you, Iscah."

A muscle in her jaw visibly clenched, her chin lifting defiantly at him. He smirked at her stubborness. "Do you know how many thousands of people he's killed?"

Truvien leaned forward as she dropped her eyes away. "Do you want to know how many villages he razed to the ground so that he could become a High Warlord? Fathers, mothers, children burned alive as his army descended upon them?"

"Stop."

"Do you want to know what the maidens told us he did to them? The ones that made it out alive?"

"Stop it," she whispered, closing her eyes and turning further away from him.

"How many times they had been ravaged by him and his comrades? How they watched as their sisters and friends were raped before their throats were slit-"

"I said stop!" She glared back at him, visibly shaking. "You're lying Truvien. I know you're lying."

Truvien smiled slowly, watching as tears glimmered to life in her eyes. "You know I'm not. You know he's capable of such atrocities."

"He's my husband, and I love him."

He burst into laughter, falling back into the chair with mirth at her conviction.

"And he's going to kill you," she added, pursing her lips as he suddenly stopped laughing at her, his face contorting with such hatred it caused a rush of fear through her limbs.

"He's a corpse rotting in the woods right now. Maggot fodder. And you," he stood up, moving over to her. Iscah flinched but held her ground as he touched his fingertips below her jaw. "You're going to come back, and you're going to marry me, and I'm going to shove you in some room of my castle that your Father gives me for rescuing his daughter and never let you see the light of day again."

He jerked her chin up so she had to look up at him, the tears that had filled her eyes now trailing out of the corners into her hair. "You could've had a decent life with me before, I would've let you have your books and your maidens-in-waiting and any other frilly, useless thing a woman nags on about. But now? Now I don't even have to pretend like I care what you want. Because if you don't do this, I'll tell everyone that the Lady Iscah spread her legs for the Horde, and they'll hang you publicly as a traitor and your father will be stripped of every merit, title and possession he had ever owned."

He shifted his grip so that his hands were around her throat, choking off her breath momentarily so he could lean down and force a kiss against her lips before shoving her back, laughing as she coughed dryly.

"I hope he broke you in good, because our wedding night is going to be one you'll never be forgetting." Stepping outside she heard him call out to the party of hired mercenaries, "Lady Iscah is ready to return home, let's move out."

He came back in and grabbed her by the chained cuffs, dragging her outside to his steed and lifting her bodily into the saddle before hopping on behind her, nudging his mount westward out of the small fortified town of Astranaar.

Iscah glanced at the mounted soldiers surrounding them, counting twelve in all, not including herself and Truvien. It meant little hope of escape.

"We're going to Auberdine?"

"Yes, we'll catch the merchant ship that sails to Stormwind Harbor. It'll be two days ride." He rested his hand on her thigh near her hip, Iscah tensing at the sensation of his touch on her. "Plenty of time for us to get _reaquainted_."

She shuddered involuntarily at the insinuation, closing her eyes as they set a swift pace through the territory. It was hard not to think about Truvien's words, about the chord of pain they had struck. He hadn't been lying, in fact she herself had been a victim of the High Warlord. Was it Stockholm syndrome that had driven her to stay with him?

It couldn't be, she finally decided, remembering the dreams that started off initially as a curiosity but had bloomed into fantasies more erotic. Before she had known his touch, she had _known_ his touch. Knew the way his skin would feel against her own, knew that what it would be like when he had taken her that second time in these very woods.

She hadn't realized she had drifted off until she heard the quickened breaths of his mount, felt the currents of wind stir her hair as Bu'u leapt nimbly through the underbrush, talons kicking up a spray of dirt as he landed back at a full run. Her eyes opened and she could barely contain her relief; Apoch sat on the raptors back, ducking branches and weaving them through the woods. The energy the two gave off emanated barely contained violence, the trolls cowl pulled up, shadowing his features.

_Apoch!_

Bu'u jerked to a halt, reigned in by his rider who's head whipped around, the raptor hissing as he flexed his talons. Apoch didn't even try to control his raptor's impatience, listening for something.

He was listening for her again she realized with a start. He couldn't see her, but could hear her. _Auberdine._

Bu'u stretched out his neck low to the ground, a snarl in the back of his throat turning into a blood curdling scream, surging forward as Apoch gave a nod, and the two disappeared into the woods in the same direction they had already been heading.

Her vision cut off abruptly as Truvien shoved her awake, handing her a stale piece of bread. They had stopped for a short lunch break, though it was all food that didn't need to be cooked by a fire. The one night elf warrior stood alone behind the group, leaning heavily on his polearm as he kept his gaze on the road they had just passed.

Truvien left her to go to him, gazing down the road as well before they both looked at each other. The human's features darkened ominously at whatever answer was in the fellow warrior's face, turning and making his way quickly back to his steed. Iscah turned away to hide her smile as he mounted back behind her, setting their pace at a gallop that lasted well into the night.

The trees barely opened up as they crossed north into Darkshore, though it was obvious even nature here had been touched by fey and fel magic. At least the path had cut veritcally through the high trees, revealing a night sky empty of the moon but filled with enough stars to give it a lavender hue. All around them in the darkness of the forest glowing eyes turned to watch the party ride by, though none of the animals were bold enough to attack.

They turned off the main road and headed east into the woods, making camp at the ruins of a night elf temple that was nothing but a heap of rubble. Truvien tied her chains to a stone before helping to get the fire started nearby, the mercenaries turning to him when a freshly killed deer was cooking over the bonfire.

"I want two guards on watch together at all times,"

"I thought you said there was no threat any longer, now that the rogue was dead," one of the hunters responded, reaching up to run her elegant fingers through the coat of the white tiger resting near her. The elven warrior turned to her, answering in Darnassian. The hunters eyes widened, looking back at Iscah who was watching the group.

So they knew he was alive now, too.

She leaned back against the stone, trying to get comfortable enough to rest as they set up groups to take shifts watching. When their dinner was over they spread their blankets around the campfire, the two on first shift heading into the woods back the way they had come to set up flares and traps. Truvien came back over to her when the group had stilled, his features hidden in the shadows of the flames lighting her face.

"I suppose you think he's going to come save you."

"If you let me talk to him, maybe I could save your comrades."

He kicked her violently in the stomach, making her double over though she couldn't move far chained, coughing as she tried to get the breath he had knocked out of her. He reached down and grabbed her hair, jerking her face up to his.

"I'll cut your throat myself before I let that damn troll even look at you," he grabbed her breast with his free hand squeezing it painfully. "Was it good for you Iscah? Did you enjoy his caresses? Did he touch you here?"

She gasped as he reached up her dress, kicking at his hand and fighting against his grip though he only twisted his fingers tighter into her hair until her scalp felt like it was on fire. He slapped her across the face hard enough to stun her for a second before reaching back down, but his hand never made it as an alarm was sounded.

"Truvien!" The warrior called, jumping back through the woods and running across the camp, waking up the other mercenaries. "The watchmen are dead, both throats slit."

"I thought you said these guys were competent, Windsong!" He snarled back, letting the mage go to unsheath his sword.

A black blur shot across the camp, grabbing the night elf huntress and dragging her into the forest with its momentum, her horrified screams turning into a barely audible gurgle before vanishing altogether. Two mercs grabbed their weapons and chased after the raptor, Truvien trying to wave them down.

"Stop, you fools he's trying to bait you!"

They didn't come back out of the woods, and Truvien cursed proflicly before untying Iscah and dragging her into the camp, the remaining eight forming a circle around her. There was a hiss in the brush and a hunter shot an arrow towards the direction, but the thud of the metal was in wood, not in flesh.

Windsong nudged a couple of pieces of fresh wood into the fire to stoke the flames with his foot before crouching next to his human comrade.

"It's going to be a long night."


	18. Chapter 18

Night crept by without another incident, and morning came bearing surprises of their comrades strung up by entrials in the trees around their camp just out of reach of their fires light. Windsong breathed a curse in Darnassian as they came into view, his grip tightening on his polearm. Iscah had fallen asleep curled up in a ball at the soldiers feet, the only one who had got rest that night. Truvien kicked her awake before dragging her to her feet, making her look at the corpses.

"You love the bastard who would do something such as this?!"

Iscah tried to turn away from the grotesque sight, but he grabbed her chin, jerking her face back towards them. "No! You look, you bitch. This is your fault, all your fault!"

She bit her lower lip to keep the tears at bay, her guilt vanishing as she caught the faintest movement near a tree not far back from a swaying body; Apoch. He was leaning against the trunk casually, arms crossed over his chest and cowl pulled back, though the look in his eyes made the hair on the back of her neck rise. The crimson hues was absolutely cold, devoid of any emotion as they stayed locked on Truvien. It was the face of a true killer.

He pushed away and vanished into thin air before any of the others around her caught sight of him, and she let out a ragged breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in.

"Truvien.. p-please. Let me go I'll stop him before-"

"Before what? Before what?!"

"Before he kills us all," Windsong replied for her, silvery hues turning to the mage who was white as a sheet. "Even if we had a hundred men right now, he's got the upper hand. We're being toyed with like a cat does a mouse."

Truvien barked an arrogant laugh, looking to Windsong. "What makes you think that?"

The night elf nodded his head to where their mounts had been tied up for the night, a few of the soldiers choking back gasps. They were all dead, even the massive black stallion that Truvien had broken in as a colt. The realization that they had been not ten feet away from their defensive group and no one had noticed made it even more chilling.

"Darkbane," Truvien murmured, staring at the poisoned body of his cherished horse. Iscah could feel his hands begin to tremble around her, and she bit the inside of her lip to keep quiet, knowing his anguish could turn violent in an instant.

"Truvien, we're going to die here," Windsong repeated gently, the warrior ripping his gaze off his charge to look back at his close friend.

"Leave everything that can be left behind," he replied curtly, letting Iscah's face go. "We make for Auberdine at the fastest pace possible."

Windsong made to reply but shut his mouth, knowing just as well as Truvien that they wouldn't make the port city by nightfall without their mounts. He cast one last forlorn glance to his pure silver sabrecat before hefting his polearm up, turning and setting their pace at a fast jog back out onto the open road to the north. Truvien kept to the middle of their group, dragging Iscah along by the cuffs until she collapsed from exhaustion near the afternoon, nowhere near the same fitness as the soldiers were. Truvien slung her over one shoulder, jogging for a few miles before setting her down and letting her run until she had nothing left. They stopped by a stream for a rest, the party dousing their faces and arms with water to help cool them off.

Iscah dropped to her knees near the creek breathlessly, cupping her hands in the water to lift to her lips before pausing when she saw a raptor print in the mud bank next to her. She cast a glance to the others who were drinking before letting the water trickle from between her fingers, catching sight of a corpse of a massive demon upstream. Truvien followed her gaze to the body.

"The water is poisoned!"

"By Elune's grace," one of the hunters snarled, backing away from the stream even though he had already taken a few deep draughts. Windsong looked at the demon for a moment before taking another drink from his canteen.

"That carcass is over a day old. He knew we would be passing this way."

"To hell with that troll," Truvien growled, snagging Iscah by the cuffs. When she didnt't make it to her feet quick enough he struck her across the skull, kicking her in the ribs when she collapsed from the initial blow. Windsong grabbed Truvien's fist before he could hit her again, moving closer to him and lowering his voice.

"If you kill her, you seal our fate. Nevermind her being your ticket to becomming a nobleman, we're beyond that now. Think of your comrades, Truvien." He let his arm go after a long pause, the human lowering his fist slowly.

"You're talking about cowardness," the human spat, glaring at the night elf.

"I'm talking about living to fight another day."

"Do all of you agree with him? Are all of you as spineless as the great Marshall Elian Windsong?!"

"Truvien-"

"Don't give me that bullshit!" He snapped, his anger turning to shock as one after another the mercenaries moved to stand behind the night elf. His brow furrowed, pulling out his claymore.

"Go, all of you. I'll face this bastard myself."

Windsong stared at him for a long moment before dropping his head and shoulders in defeat, the other soldiers behind him making for the road again and heading north. Elian was the only one who glanced back before they rounded a bend, out of sight.

Truvien watched them go as he waited to get his breath back, sucking in a lungful of air through his nose before looking back at the girl curled up at his feet. He kicked Iscah again and she cried out in pain, the warrior looking up around him expectantly.

Apoch was across the bank from him not ten feet away in response. With his cowl up his eyes held a faint crimson glow, his gaze tilting as he cracked his neck. Truvien snorted like a bull before charging across the water, claymore coming down in a diagonal swipe that would've cleaved him in half. Apoch merely took a step to the side and Truvien flew past, hopping another step forward out of range as the warrior swung his sword in an arc behind him before turning to face him.

With his back brazenly towards Truvien he slowly pulled out one dagger, leaving the bone blade in its scabbard before turning nonchalantly back towards him for the next onslaught. The warrior obliged, his attacks predicated on power moreso than speed, each swing causing Apoch to duck or move backwards, though never once did he lift his own blade to parry. Truvien screamed with frustration at the mockery the troll was making of him, pressing him along the bank upstream before Apoch finally made his move; coming inside his guard when he swung too wide and slamming him bodily against a tree. His dagger arched out, slamming into Truvien's extended forearm through his plate mail and buring into the wood behind it deeply, pinning the human there. Truvien snarled in pain, dropping his sword though the troll stepped back, moving away from him to Iscah who had managed to sit up again.

He pulled his cowl back and crouched next to her, fingertips running over the bleeding lump on her head and down to her side. When he was satisfied no bones were broken he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. She looked up at him, the chilling gaze she had seen that morning replaced with tenderness.

"Can you stand?"

She nodded, and he helped her to her feet, running his thumb across her cheek gently.

"I need you to go with Bu'u."

"Apoch-"

"He assaulted my wife, dared to touch her. I will not forgive him, nor let him live, nor let him have a swift death," he murmured, pulling her against him and kissing her temple soothingly. "I will not have you to see this, either. Go with Bu'u."

Her gaze moved to Truvien, watching as he struggled with the dagger keeping him in place. At the blood pouring out of his forearm in ever faster amounts as he cut himself further on its razor-sharp edge. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from the gorey scene and burying her face against the warm leather of his chest. Bu'u moved out of the brush and nudged her gently, sniffing at her wounds with as much concern as his master.

"My death will be on your head just as much as his," Truvien spat as she turned away from him. "You're just as much a monster as he is, Iscah! You filthy whore!"

Iscah curled her shoulders up under the conviction in his voice, Bu'u leading her away from the troll and human as she held onto the reigns. Truvien's words only followed her so far as out of eyesight before the condemnations gave way to shrieks of agony. She gasped at the horrifying sound, clutching her stomach as the first wave of nausea swept over her. Bu'u paused, crouching down and ushering her onto his back with his muzzle, setting a quick pace away from the screams that had become more and more garbled.

She merely held on as the raptor took her well out of range of hearing anymore, but after the screams had faded, the tears had come, falling silently. His blood would forever be on her hands, even though not one droplet had fallen on her.

At dusk Bu'u stopped, well to the east of the main road the party of soldiers had rode on. With no sleeping packs the raptor hopped up into the trees and ripped evergreen boughs down that were within reach with his maw, building a makeshift nest for his charge to rest on before curling up next to her for warmth. He was snoring within moments, but it took longer for the mage to find rest, eyes staring sightlessly at the masked heavens above.

She should have protected him, should have asked Apoch to spare his life, or at least a quick death. She should have done so many things differently yet she had simply walked away. It made her no less evil than Truvien had been. Her mind sifted over the memories of the warrior, of how his eyes had wandered so often when he had taken her out for the social events to see if everyone was watching him, how often he had pressed her to look up information on creatures he wanted to know how to defeat. And inevitably the truth to his courtship; from the very beginning, he had used her to his advantage.

It was the opposite for Apoch she knew. She could sometimes see it in his face when he thought she wasn't looking. The fear of the unknown. They had both lost everything; their honor, their social ranking, their home. Outcasts forever, together. Perhaps that was what made it so easy to have accepted him, despite it all. In the cave while he had been unconscious he had run such a high fever, twisting against her in a near panic as he had called out her name, repetitively asking for forgiveness even in his dreams. She had watched the tears glimmer in the corner of his eyes before the fever burned them away, and even now she wondered if they had been for all the things he had lost to be with her, or the thought of losing her.

It wasn't until Truvien had shown his true side that Iscah became aware of how much the rogue had saved her from, how much he had really left behind to be with a human girl who was inept at fending for herself. She covered her face with her hands, heaving a sob miserably.

Apochs fingers slid around her wrists and pulled her palms away, his lips tracing over her eyes and down her cheeks, kissing away her tears before he stretched alongside her, pinning her between himself and the raptor so she could keep warm.

"I'm sorry, Iscah. It had to be done."

"_Im, _I know, understand. But hurt still."

He sighed, tugging at the cuffs that were still around her wrists before lifting his hips up to pull out his pickpocketing set, unlocking their delicate mechanisms easily and tossing them into the woods. Returning his tools he propped his head up on an elbow, laying on his side to face her as she did the same. He stroked her hair softly, letting the silky strands sift between his two fingers.

"I sorry, too."

"For what, Iscah? You did nothing wrong."

"For everything you lose, to with me be."

He paused, gaze sliding from her tresses to her face, aware of how fragile she was in this moment. Snorting a soft laugh he gave her hair a light tug, smirk crooked. "If I had known you'd be this much trouble," he leaned down, nipping at her nose playfully, "I would've come for you a lot sooner."

She exhaled a shakey laugh, the sound muted beneath his mouth as he kissed her endearingly, wrapping her in his arms so that she could snuggle against his chest.

"I love you, my wife."


	19. Chapter 19

Iscah woke to the pale light streaming down through the trees, a stag not far off starting as she lifted her head, bounding away gracefully out of sight. Apoch and Bu'u were still deep in sleep, but when she tried to sneak out between the two the troll woke instantly, bolting up and reaching for his blades instinctively before realizing it had been his wife's squirming that had woken him. He collapsed back down onto the branches, rubbing at his eyes as Iscah peered over him.

"When you last sleep?"

"Three days ago?"

"No good."

He grunted, lifting his palm out of his socket to eye her. "I've done six before, but I was a lot younger back then. I must've dozed off last night." He sat up smoothly, looking around them in small increments so that he could use all his senses to check for danger.

When he was sure there was no threat he looked back to her, noticing her own physical exhaustion, her cheeks gaunt and eyes ringed dark. They needed to rest and he needed to figure out their next move. Iscah chewed the inside of her lip for a moment, glancing back to him shyly.

"Old are you?"

"How old am I?" He corrected, stretching out his form with an impressive yawn. "Somewhere around thirty I think." Her eyes widened, and he grinned at her wolfishly. "And you?"

"One nine tens."

"Nineteen," he gave a low whistle, shaking his head as he rubbed his fingers through his hair. It had grown since they had been on the road, now feathery spikes that arched back drooping down past his neck. He reached up and braided it together idly, Iscah laughing as it stuck out at an odd angle. She sat up, wiggling over to his head and pulling his skull into her lap. He closed his eyes as she undid the messy braid, combing her fingers through the hair that was thicker than her own, raking her nails gently over his scalp. Apoch shivered at the sensation, a smile edging his lips before she began to plait his bangs so that they haloed his face.

"Bu'u alive how? You how?"

"A shaman stumbled by, healed me and brought Bu'u back to life."

"Want ask more, words hard."

"Then I'll teach you more trollish. I can't believe how much you've already learned in a matter of weeks." He sat up when she was finished, touching at the braids curiously before resigning himself to them, glancing at the mage who was blushing under his compliment.

"We speak Zandali?"

"No, that's a very old language, nearly forgotten by my race. Instead we speak a dialect called low common." He stood up and helped her to her feet as well. Bu'u choked on a snore, wiggling around the pile of evergreens to try to find a warm body to press up against before peeping one gold eye open when his search proved fruitless.

"Zandali words on knai-eve."

"What?" Her gaze snapped to her. She pointed at the bone blade at his hip.

"Books show words, same words look knai-eve."

He stood stunned for a moment, the news surprising him. It should've been easy to guess since there was a troll djinn housed in it, but if that was the case, it meant they might be able to find answers from the Zandalar Tribe in Stranglethorn if the crazy old shaman proved useless.

"Where go we?"

"Where do we go," he corrected impulsively, scratching at his jaw. "The mountains to the east of us have a lot of caves. I think we should take a few days to rest up. After that, we'll head to Auberdine."

It was her turn to be surprised. "No leave you."

"There's a ship that goes to Dustwallow Marsh, from there it's only a few days ride to Triki. I can hide on the vessel with little issues, done it plenty of times before."

They set out within a few minutes, Apoch having abandoned almost all of their supplies in Ashenvale except the bare minimums to travel light and fast. Finding a cave proved easy enough, a narrow ledge nearly invisible unless you were looking for it leading up to a small opening, though on further inspection a Yeti had already made a home out of it, and wasn't about to give it up that easily. The massive beast crowded the entry, huffing in a territorial display as Apoch walked towards him, breaking into a charge when the troll didn't back down. Apoch's blade snaked out before he twisted, flattening against the wall as the Yeti flew by, and Iscah watched as its blood gushed in huge sprays from the gash running the length of its throat before it finally collapsed onto its knuckles and rolled off the edge onto the ground a dozen feet below.

Apoch laughed at their good fortune, hopping off the ledge and skinning the corpse with expert precision before signaling to his raptor, Bu'u falling on the meat with abandon. Iscah inched up the precipice into the cave, finding it curved deeper into the mountain before ending abruptly, the ground littered with dried grass and herbs to sleep on. When she came back out, Apoch had already started on curing the hide.

By the end of the second day they had a huge yeti blanket to sleep and wrap themselves up in, though Iscah thought it useless. Apoch found ways to keep her warm well into the nights, sometimes even into the mornings, his apetite and need to explore her body insatiable. When the sun would rise their day would be busy with various things, though more often than not the two would go hunting together so that she could hone her magic skills and practice dressing the animal carcasses, very little of their kills going to waste as he dried the meats and stored them away for food to eat on the ship. All the while, Iscah's language progression kept growing by leaps and bounds on a daily basis, her ability to learn and remember so easily more than impressing her husband.

"Why so much meat?"

"It's a long sail around the northern side of Kalimdor. They'll take notice of food missing, and it can get us both into a bad situation. I learned that the hard way." He winced theatricly and Iscah laughed, pushing the bone needle through a pre-cut hole in the leather he had prepared for her to stitch together as a bag. Already they had spent seven days at the cave, but he knew it'd be time to move out soon enough. They couldn't risk being found once more, but the troll thought it the best place so far. What better hiding spot than at your enemies front door?

"Set that down, let's go spar."

"I no good."

"I know, that's why we need to do it." He took the needle from her fingers, setting the leather down before pulling her up and dragging her to a clearing not far off, rolling his shoulders to stretch his muscles before facing her.

"Hit me."

She bit her lower lip, blue sprites springing to life at her fingertips, wending into her palm before condensing with audible crackling into frozen shards. Before the spell could be finished he simply vanished in front of her, only to reappear seconds later at her back, his hand knife-edged and pressed against her throat symbolicly.

"Too slow, much too slow. Fast hits," he added, letting her go. "Those magic spells are good but not until later, not until you know the rogue can't vanish on you again."

"I no want hurt you."

"I don't want to," he corrected, stepping back to put distance between them with a smile. "You couldn't hit me with a spell even if I was blindfolded, wife."

He saw her chin rise stubbornly, laughing at her predicable response. "All right, you think you can? If you get one hit on me, I'll apologize and never tease you again." He tugged off his cowl, wrapping it length wise around his eyes.

"And I don't hit you?"

His smile was predatory, fangs visible with his response. "You better not even think about that."

A gutteral snarl rose from the back of his throat as he took a threatening pose, intentionally trying to startle her. Coiling his legs beneath him he lunged, sprinting full out in her direction. She teleported away before whipping around towards him, a quick fireball flung though it soared over his head as he ducked down and slid to a stop, dashing again for her as he heard her whisper the incantations for the frostbolt once again. She yelped the final word as he closed in on her, his momentum suddenly turning ninety degrees to dodge the icey missile. His arm snaked out as he passed her, clotheslining her bodily though he pulled her against his chest as they both went down, cushioning her fall before rolling her over so that she was face down in the grass. Pinning her shoulderblades with a locked arm he reached up and pulled his blindfold off, grinning down at her before tisking.

"I told you, fast hits."

"You cheat," she panted back, her adrenaline rushing at the feeling of battle. He laughed softly at her accusation, lifting himself off her.

"Did I now? Don't be a sore loser Iscah." The mage rolled onto her back and he offered her a hand up, jerking her against him and leaning down to kiss her roughly. She gasped as he lifted her up by the rump, letting her legs wend around his slim hips for support so that she was eye level with him. Sliding his hands along the sides of her thighs he pushed her dress away, pinning her against a tree and moving her loincloth aside so that the only thing between them was his leathers. He ground his hips against her with the barest of pressure, letting the criss-crossed ties of his pants rub against her sex playfully, her feminine scent soon filling his nose.

Bracing himself with an arm he reached down between them to untie the now-slick strings, having to focus on ignoring her soft mewling until he was finally free. She shifted against him and he pushed into her in one smooth motion, rocking back when she cried out in delight to slide himself into her again. His strokes shortened though he stayed in control, feeling Iscah tense, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her breath cut off abruptly. He felt her come through his entire body, his own reacting to spray into her a fragment of what he was holding back.

Her form melted in his grip and he pulled her away from the trunk, spilling her onto the ground as she tried to recover though he didn't give her that comfort, pushing her onto her stomach so that she was on all fours. He pulled her back and slammed into her as deep as he would go, a surprised cry his reward for the motion.

"Apoch! N-no!" She tried to twist away but his hands pinned her hips into place, crying out sharply as he buried into her again before picking up a hard rhythm. The discomfort of feeling him stretch her body so viciously quickly began to be overwhelmed with pleasure, her struggles weakening until he could tilt her hips even further down so her entire ribcage was pressed into the tousled grass.

Iscah collapsed onto her side when he finally released into her, and he leaned down to touch her cheek worriedly.

"Did I hurt you?"

"_Im, _no. Good," she panted back, a satisfied little smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Again."

"What?" He blinked at her, and her smile turned challenging.

"Fight again."

Apoch snorted derisively. "You didn't learn your lesson the first time? Fine by me, but this time when you lose," he leaned down near her ear playfully. "I'll keep going even after you start to cry."

He stood up and she followed suite, shaking his limbs out and grabbing his cowl off the ground as he passed it, tying it off and popping his neck.

"Ready for me?"

"Ready."

He lunged, feet spraying up grass as he flew over the distance between them. At the last minute he leapt into the air, arms out to catch her even though he expected her to teleport away again. Instead his arms swept nothingness as she ducked and took a step to the side, letting him pass by harmlessly. He felt a searing heat scortch his back, and he landed with a hop before dropping, rolling across the meadow to put out the fires she had conjured on his upper back.

Standing up again he ripped off his blindfold to stare at her in surprise, her soft laughter filling the silence of his lost wager.

"Now _that_ was a cheap shot."


	20. Chapter 20

When Iscah had finished sewing the second bag, Apoch decided it was time to leave. On his daily scout of the area he had found night elf prints too close for comfort to their temporary home and it was a harsh reminder to their situation. He had thought long and hard about a safe place, but there was no sanctuary for either of them that came to mind.

Rubbing his fingers against the grain of his hair he wiped the scowl off his face at the thought when she held up the bag for him to inspect, the troll checking over her stitching carefully, grunting with satisfaction when he found no flaws that could cause the bag to tear.

"We go soon?"

"Mmmhm, Triki needs to explain this whole dagger mystery," he replied, tapping the bone blade. Perhaps also, the shaman knew where they could go to be safe. He handed her the bag back and she took it up to the cave to put their stock of jerky into it, pausing when she heard his voice. Setting the bag down she peeked out of the entrance, watching as he stroked Bu'u's muzzle, the unbridled raptor bumping the ridge of his brow against Apoch's forehead.

The troll murmured something back, running his hand down the beasts neck reassuringly before Bu'u hissed, backing away suddenly though his claws were curled out of sight submissively. Apoch snarled back, squaring his shoulders, pose utterly dominant as Bu'u lowered himself to the ground, the hiss taking on a whine. Iscah stepped back out, nervous as to why the raptor was upset.

Bu'u finally dropped onto his side, rolling so his belly was exposed to his master though he was still hissing softly, the sickle claw on his hind legs flexed showing his tension. Iscah joined her husbands side as Bu'u finally stopped baring the rows of serrated teeth.

"What happened?"

"He's mad," Apoch growled back, turning away from the raptor. Bu'u took the hint and sat up, scuttling on his belly to nuzzle the troll's calf.

"Why?"

"He has to run to Ratchet," he replied, waiting until the raptor had settled down before turning back and grunting to him. Bu'u rose smoothly though avoided eye contact with his master, instead going to Iscah and bumping her nervously with his maw. She reached up and stroked his neck soothingly, letting him use his jaw to usher her up against his chest and throat like a hen does with its young.

"You spoiled my raptor, wife. Now he doesn't want to leave you."

She glanced at him at the rough tone, though his crimson eyes were amused. Of course he would have to run, there would be no place for him to hide on the boat she realized. It was the best, if not safest option. Bu'u moaned pitifully when she finally pushed him away, reaching up to grab his muzzle and pull his face down to her own.

"Apoch will take care of me, good Bu'u. Love you too. Run fast? Nono," she crooned when he tried to snuggle up against her again. "Go, see you soon."

She kissed his nose and he took the hint, glancing one last time at Apoch before turning, disappearing into the woods in a flash of black and tan.

"He's saved my life so many times on the battlefield, rended animals and enemies apart and run headlong into perilous situations at my command, only to be brought down into a snivveling pile of a pup. By a human, no less." Apoch snorted a laugh, picking up the saddle and tack and looking back to Iscah. They shared grins before she went back up to the cave to finish packing up his food.

By the end of the day their camp was no more, save for a small part of yeti hide left for sleeping on and a campfire. They had dinner of roasted quail stuffed with edible tubers and wild onions, and while the fire died Iscah slept stretched out on top of her husband. He had made a comb for her out of bone, decorating it with simple patterns so she could detangle her hair or pin it up out of her face with it like it was at that moment. He pulled it out and slid his hand through the silky tresses, wrapping a lock of it around his fingers and watching as it unravelled and fell lightly among the tumbled mass that was cascading down his side.

The memories that Bu'u and he shared of fights in the past brought up so many conflicting thoughts. It was one thing to be retired voluntarily from the lifestyle of a warlord, another to know he could never return to it at all now. Even if, by some act of the gods, they did allow him to come back to the horde would he do that? He had no qualms with slaughtering a human, or any other race that would get in his way, but he knew Iscah would. He would rather face torture than see her tears as he killed her kin.

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and relaxing his form, his ears picking up the sound of an owl as it snagged a mouse in its talons not far off. The forest was in its normal routine, nothing giving an alarm to any foreigner stepping through its depths. Knowing they were safe for the night, he fell asleep only to wake a few hours before dawn.

Checking on Iscah he slipped away moving with absolute silence through the trees into the meadow he had sparred her on, stretching out with meticulous discipline before pulling out his blades and practicing the forms and stances with so much ease it looked more like a dance than his daily training routine. When dawn began to color the sky grey he finished his cooldowns and woke up his wife, always amused at how hard it was for her to finally get moving. It probably had more to do with the fact it was a chance to get attention from him more than being a slow riser. Giving in to temptation he flopped on top of her, crushing her until she squealed before rolling off onto his back and grabbing the soap he had made out of animal fat and ash. The fat had been soaked with cedar, giving it the tiniest scent of the wood though his wife swore she couldn't smell it.

They walked to the waterfall that fed the stream near their cave, Apoch stripping quickly and moving into the water without so much as a wince before turning to watch his wife's entertaining little dance she did before hopping into the chilly depths. She swam over to him and pressed herself between his legs, teeth chattering and trying to keep warm against him though the currents swept the warm barrier away. He waded into the shallows again, lathering the soap against his palms before rubbing the foam over her skin, the bathe returned by Iscah until both were clean. With their supplies packed they dried off with her dress, Apoch tossing his leathers over his shoulder and walking back with her to their camp. He stoked the embers, and while the fresh wood caught stretched her dress on a stick near the fire so the heat could dry it out before sitting down next to his wife, pushing her over and snuggling her back up against his chest for warmth.

They dozed for an hour before dressing again, Apoch dousing the fire before swinging on the heavier of the two packs onto his shoulders and helping Iscah with hers, the two setting off north to Auberdine.

Iscah was the first to find their breakfast; sweet thistle flowers and blueberries that were too early in the season to be flavorful, and Apoch finished it up with wild licorice root he peeled and they chewed on during their walk.

The miles passed with more language lessons, though now Apoch could point at most anything and Iscah knew the trollish word for it immediately. Their conjunctions were completely opposite in the way a sentence was made, but once she understood the ways words were strung together she began to pick up on the troll grammar much easier.

"Is it harder than common?"

"No, much more simple. Words not have three or four meaning. Cat mean cat. Dog mean dog."

"Oh? What does cat mean in your language?"

Iscah made to respond, shutting her mouth as color rose to her cheeks, dismissing his question with a wave. Apoch chuckled at her reaction, glancing around them once more to check for any signs of ally races. They were well east of the main road, but that didn't mean adventurers couldn't stumble across them. Only once did a hunter near, but Apoch simply stealthed and he passed by without so much as a second look towards the lone mage.

Night fell when the lights of Auberdine came into view, and Apoch paused to offload Iscah from her pack, the girl stretching with a groan of delight at not having to carry the extra weight. He set his own down next to hers.

"Let's head in to town, I need you to find out when the boat leaves next for Dustwallow."

"How am I to pay for boat?"

Apoch grinned at her, pulling his cowl up over his face and stalking closer. She giggled and turned away, his hands snaking over her flat belly before sliding down.

"I'm a rogue, remember? No one's treasure is safe," he growled, fingers rubbing between her legs until he heard her gasp.

"You are cruel," she muttered back when he pulled away casually, the troll laughing though the sound was muted before melding into the darkness. The walk in, she could feel his presence near her, and it was comforting when she stepped out of the woods and into the light of the town.

Finding the wharfmaster was easy enough, the older night elf looking at his schedule book at her query.

"Tomorrow in the morning, as your luck would have it. She's moored at the docks to the right. Beautiful vessel, you can't miss her."

"How much is the fare?"

"Well, there's a few options. Commoners can share a communal sleeping quarter for two gold, or you can have a private room with your own bed for ten."

He eyed her closely, noting that even though she had on traveling clothes, the way she held herself hinted at more than just a commoner.

"There is also the nobles suite for two hundred."

She smiled shyly at his words, kicking herself mentally when she realized her posture was too proud. It was impressive the master had picked up on it.

"Thank you, can I pay for passage in the morning?"

"Of course," he replied, glancing at the manifest. "Unless we get quite a few people suddenly wanting to go to Dustwallow, there will be plenty of options for you."

She bobbed her head to him in response before heading back into the city and towards the inn. Iscah glanced over the wares behind the night elf, catching sight of two dresses that looked comfortable for traveling in. The innkeeper pulled her size down off a high shelf, accidentally dragging out another dress that was beneath the two. Iscah watched the vibrant blue material snake to the floor, picking it up for the vendor and holding it out.

There was little of the material, deep arches cutting down the hips and the front having a heart-shaped cutout that went from below her bellybutton to just below her breasts. From what she could tell, there was no back to it besides two little straps.

"Is this, um, lingerie?"

The innkeeper laughed, taking it from her and folding it back up. "No, but it should be, shouldn't it? It's the latest fashion in Darnassus, they call it a lovely dress. I think they should call it half a dress."

Iscah grinned, biting her lower lip at the thought of Apoch's expression if he saw her in it.

"I think I'll get that too, then. And do you have any jewelry?"

"Yes, hang on."

She ducked beneath the counter, pulling up a chest and setting it down, unlocking the bolt and opening it for the mage to see. Her eyes immediately went to a pair of simple gold rings, pulling one out and sliding it onto her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

"Oh? Someone special?" The night elf inquired, brow arching pointedly when Iscah's face flushed. She pulled the ring off and handed it back.

"Can you hold all this for me until tomorrow?"

"Sure, see you then."

Apoch was waiting for her at the edge of the woods when she returned, tossing her a large money sack that hurt her palms when she caught it. She gasped, looking back up to him in surprise.

"How much?"

"Only four hundred gold."

"Only?!" He gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Bad, bad thief."

They shared wicked grins before walking back to their bags, Apoch stopping every now and then to turn and look back in the direction they had come, listening for something. Iscah gave him a curious look when his eyes narrowed.

"We're being followed," he whispered reaching out to nudge her forward. She complied as he vanished, continuing on towards their supplies until she heard a strangled cough from behind her. Turning back the way she came she found Apoch holdding a dagger against Elians throat hard enough a line of blood had begun to trickle either side of his esophagus, his other hand curled in the mass of grey hair tightly.

"Iscah, call him off, I mean you no harm," he choked, wincing as the words caused the dagger to saw deeper into his skin.

"Apoch let him go, he just wants to talk," Iscah relayed quickly, the troll's dagger moving away from the night elfs neck though he kicked out the back of his knees, shoving him down into a kneeling position and keeping his hand wound in his hair.

"He must think little of his life to do something this insane," Apoch growled back, his wife ignoring him.

"Why did you come, Elian?"

"I saw you at the inn, and I wanted to talk to you privately for two reasons, really. For you, and for him." Moving his hand slowly he lifted his shirt, revealing an old scar of a circle with an upside-down V crossing through it. Iscah balked at the sight, Apoch leaning over to see what he was exposing before exhaling a ragged snarl and letting him go.

"What is that?"

Apoch paced for a moment, raking his free hand through his hair before looking at Iscah irritatedly.

"My mark."

"Your what?"

"It means I spared his life at some point, if not saved it altogether," he explained, glancing back at Elian as he checked the slice across his throat. "That doesn't mean I will spare him again."

"He carved this into me, during a battle in the Alterac Mountains. Our troops had met on the open fields in the center of the valley, between both fortresses. I had been leading the defense, and he had been at the head of the horde offense. I remember seeing him for the first time on the hill overlooking the battle, I remember when our eyes met, when he had come for me." Elian's silver hues rose to meet Iscah, pausing to give her time to interpret for the troll who had turned to listen.

"I fought with everything, I thought I had him beat. I thought I would be the one that would take down the High Warlord Apoch. But in the last moments he rose up and destroyed me, there is no other word for it. Instead of giving me a death, he gave me this, and turned his killing blades on my comrades, leaving me to my shame."

"I remember that fight, we were nearly across the bridge into Dun Baldar before the coven of druids summoned Ivus. My whole regiment was wiped out by the Forest Lord when he trapped us at the pass. What he didn't kill, the archers in the bunkers did from our other side. Only the rogues and druids made it out alive." He snorted a laugh at the memory, crouching down and leaning back on his haunches as Iscah relayed. "But what does that have to do with the present? Revenge?"

"For a long time, yes, I wanted revenge. But then I met someone, and we had our first child not eight months ago. I wanted to," Elian took a deep, steadying breath. "I wanted to thank him. My burning rage at being humiliated has turned to a different fire. My life is my son and wife, and in the darkness that he caused is where she found me."

Apoch listened, looking up at Iscah when she finished with a scowl. "Are you serious? Is he actually a woman that he would be so dramatic? What the hell is wrong with this fruit?"

"He says you're welcome," Iscah replied to Elian calmly, mind working furiously even as Apoch kept questioning the night elfs masculinity, her cheeks coloring. "And that he hopes you are at peace."

"Uh huh," Elian replied, looking at Apoch's irritated expression with doubt that Iscah was telling the truth about what the troll was saying. When Apoch realized his wife wasn't about to give a correct translations of his insults he threw his hands up, stalking off some distance away though close enough to attack Elian should the need arise.

"I've also sent word to your father of your tragic death. As I understand it, they will be holding a ceremonial funeral for you in two days time when the family comes out of mourning."

The news was a slap in the face, Iscah reeling back before catching herself. Apoch shifted, moving closer at her expression and arm flexing that was holding the weapon. She shook her head swiftly, looking back to Elian.

"I thought it the best way for you, the easiest way so that you and your High Warlord can find peace together."

"Yes," she whispered, looking down. "Yes, you're right. Thank you, for doing that."

Elian nodded, rising slowly so that he was non-threatening to Apoch. "I should go. I know this must be hard for you, but if you ever need help of any kind, I am here. I would say I hope you two find the same thing I found with my Elunora, but then that would be pointing out the obvious."

He bowed to her, and even lower to Apoch before moving back towards the city. The troll made to move after him but Iscah grabbed his arm.

"He is a friend now, both of us friend."

"He knows too much," he replied, shaking her off though she moved to bar his path, a warning growl her reward for such a bold move.

"He tell my father I dead. I cut off from family, from Alliance. I need.." She let her head drop, if anything to hide her tears. "I need one tie to home, if only for the peace it brings"Apoch sighed, sheathing his knife and reaching down to smooth the curtains of hair away from her face, lifting her gaze back up and nuzzling her lips gently. "Don't ever say I didn't give you anything."


	21. Chapter 21

When the sun rose they left for Aubderdine, Apoch having shoved even more of their supplies into his bag so that hers wasn't as full. Kissing her briskly he faded into the shadows, following her into the town and out onto the docks.

The wharfmaster smiled when he caught sight of her, his grin growing even moreso when she handed over two hundred gold.

"You won't be disappointed, Lady..."

"Lady Sarah," she filled in for him, her smile polite. Setting down her bag he motioned to a shiphand, the human taking her luggage with a bow before heading up the plank. "I also would like to ask you a favor. I had asked the innkeeper to hold a few items for me, would you be so kind to send a runner to pick them up? This should cover the merchandise, along with your time."

The gold handed over was substantial enough to make the entrepeneurs eyes light up, his attention shifting to a young lad standing nearby and snapping his fingers to get his attention.

"It will be taken care of promptly, enjoy your voyage."

"A pleasure, sir," she responded, bowing as a courtesan of her upbringing would before heading up the plank. A crew member showed her to the back of the ship, unlocking the door to the impressive sized room. The decorations were sparse, but the furniture was well crafted and intricately carved, the two plush seats near the glass windows that overlooked the waters far down below inviting, and even more so when her eyes rested on the bookshelf specially designed to keep the books from sliding out when the ship was being rocked.

"It's rivaled only by the captains quarters," he responded to her mask of aired disapointment, and she nodded curtly before handing over a gold coin.

"It will do, thank you."

She took the key and went back onto the deck, walking out stand at the bow to stay out of the sailors way as they readied the sails. There were only a few guests onboard, far fewer than she would've expected when they finally pushed off, counting only half a dozen as they waved to family and friends that were seeing them off.

The ship pulled away from the docks and out of the protection of the small cove, sails that were a deep royal purple hissing up the lines before bloating with wind as the captain turned them out into the breeze. Soon the bumps of waves turned into larger masses, and Iscah was grateful that Apoch had gathered herbs to aleviate her motion sickness. She stayed outside until the land dipped below the horizon, going back to her quarters to find her merchandise wrapped in brown paper on the bed. Shutting the door she waited, expecting Apoch to come out of his stealthed prowl, but when she realized she was still alone she turned back towards her parcels.

The two rings were in a small box, and she hid them under the pillows of the bed before untying the twine holding the paper in place, the blue dress neatly folded on top of the other two. Biting the inside of her lip she grinned wildly, picking it up and sorting out the thin strings before sloughing off her linen robe and slipping into the new one.

It had been a long time since she had felt the coolness of silk, and it caused her to sigh with delight. She pulled the straps up and went to the mirror near the toiletroom, looking over her figure. Her reflection made her blush, the deep cut in the center barely touching the skin of her stomach, its edges held away by her hip bones. Her small breasts fit the top perfectly though, the slippery feel of the dress causing her nipples to harden ever slightly, casting two shadows against the brilliant material.

She heard the soft scrape of metal as the troll picked the lock and pushed the door open, balking at the sight of her for a split second before regaining his composure enough to shut the door before he was seen. The carnal look in his eyes when he turned his attention back to her caused her heart to jump a beat, the shyness of wearing something so exposing doused by a searing flash of heat.

"You like it?"

"I've seen a lot of females wearing that dress," he replied softly, his eyes raking down her figure as he walked over to her slowly. "But none that make it look more beautiful than you."

The color in her cheeks darkened at his compliment, looking down demurely as he cornered here against the wall. She slid past him, backing towards the bed to keep an eye on him as he turned and stalked predatorily after her. Pulling the small box out from under the pillow she held it up towards him, Apoch blinking as the present distracted him for a moment. He opened the wrapping, shaking out the two gold bands onto his open palm.

"This is a human tradition, isn't it? Mates wear these bands to show others they are bound?"

She nodded in response, moving over to him to take the smaller one and slide it onto her finger. He smirked, amused at her sentimental gift before studying the larger gold band that was still nearly four times too small for even one of his fingers. Reaching up he grabbed a shock of his hair and twisted it tightly before sliding the ring down the thick rope, the hair unwinding to hold the band tightly into place when he let it go.

"Now, about that dress," he purred, turning his attention back to his wife.

The days at sea passed uneventful, and whenever Iscah slept, left the room for food or fresh air Apoch would sneak down into the belly of the ship to work out as much as he could in the confined cargo hold. They spent most of the time in the room together, practicing her language skills.

"Tell me about life, how you end up being a rogue?"

"What a silly question to ask. My past is my past, why talk about it."

"I want to know," she pressed, snuggling up against his side further as he folded his hands behind his head and stretched out his form on the bed.

"Parents were killed in a raid and I was taken, sold at a slave auction to an agent of an _academy_ that specialized in producing the finest assassins in all of azeroth. Out of a class of ninety five, I was one of seven that survived the training."

"You must hate them very much."

He shrugged his shoulder she wasn't resting her cheek on, studying the ceiling blankly. "They broke me of that hate very early. There was no room for emotion; you survived or you died. So, when I passed all their tests and proved myself their best student I was chartered out to do some work for an extremist organization, only to have the entire thing go wrong and end up getting drafted by the same General that I had been sent to kill. He paid for my freedom, and owing him a debt of gratitude I fought for him until he died on the field of battle in my arms."

"How sad."

Apoch glanced at her curiously, remembering suddenly how death was a time of mourning for humans rather than a time to celebrate the deads deeds. "It wasn't sad, it was glorious. There cannot be a greater honor than to die in battle."

"But life greatest battle, great honor to live. More to life than death, death is easy part. It sad to know you never will have more memories with General after that. I would have like to meet him."

He snorted, musing over her words about life having more meaning than death. She was right, it was harder to live. Not fearing death had saved him so many times, had allowed him to cull the terror at the thought of an end and turn himself into something altogether different. Iscah had fallen still at his side, mistaking his silence for something different.

"Or would you be embarassed for him to know you with a human girl now?"

His crimson eyes slid down to lock onto hers, turning so that he could prop himself up on an elbow and shadow her small figure with his own ominously.

"Say that again."

"I just thought-"

He snarled, low enough so only she could hear as his lips pulled back, exposing his long canines. She fell silent instantly, flattening against the bed beneath him at the feral display.

"My heart was filled with love for him; when he died I killed in memory of him, but it was a hollow feeling. My heart is filled again, and I am not dishonored by this. Nor should you be."

"I am not," she whispered, watching as he leaned down to touch his lips against her cheek, his warm tusk pressing against the side of her mouth and curve up the slope of her nose. The affection brought the slightest hint of a smile, and she pushed him away before he got too serious. "You told me before you have been on ship. How many times?"

"A few," he replied, recoiling from her enough to lay on his side. "The first time I had hidden in a barrel for a entire day when the crew realized they had a stow-away onboard."

"A barrel? But you are too big for barrel!"

"Yeah," he mused, his grin turning lopsided. "I'm double-jointed. Definate perk for being a rogue. Took me two days to work out all the kinks when I finally got off the ship."

"Do you miss that life?"

"I had retired from it before this whole thing with you began."

"Then why kill humans in Stormwind when you came for me?"

"Old debts that needed to be paid."

They docked the next day, and Iscah took the remaining money to buy a few needed supplies for the wilderness before meeting Apoch north of town. Bu'u was still missing, though the troll seemed unphased by this. Instead he would stop occasionally to rub the underside of his jaw against a trunk or branch to leave a scent trail. When Iscah brought up the idea that an alliance hunter might try to track him down by doing that he merely shrugged, eyes flashing.

"Let them come."

They reached Triki's cave by nightfall, but found it empty. Apoch checked the prints and ashes of the fire before scratching the back of his head.

"Been gone maybe two days. He would have known we were coming, so why not be here to meet us?"

His scowl only deepened when Iscah found the note scratched out on a piece of papyrus.

"Booty Bay."

"I wonder if this has anything to do with the Zandalar tribe. Either way, we'll spend the night here then and take the ship to the Eastlands tomorrow."

Iscah nodded, and while he went out to steal some dinner from the pirate camps she started a fire and put the kettle over the flames, glancing to the door when a dark shadow passed.

"Bu'u!"

The raptor yipped happily, prancing over and bumping his muzzle against her, sniffing her thoroughly until he was sure she was healthy. When Apoch came back with a small barrel of beer and a haunch of roasted pork he greeted him in the same fashion, though he kept his head much lower and his greeting was less enthusiastic. Iscah wondered if that was a submission display, but it didn't bother her too much; Bu'u had never shown any signs of aggression towards her.

They ate their fill of the meat, neither drinking much of the beer. Apoch didn't want to drop his guard too much, and Iscah confessed no taste for the brew. Instead they left it for the shaman to enjoy when they departed the next morning.

The winds were up and favoring the sail east, and the journey that had taken three days headed west only took one and a half. It was dark when a crewmember called land in sight, and Apoch went to the bow of the ship when the flickering lights of Booty Bay came into view, though it was not a welcome scene. Beside him Iscah gasped in shock.

The town was burning into the water.


	22. Chapter 22

"All men at arms! Crew to the guns!" The captain bellowed, a sailor beside him with a looking-glass white as a sheet. "If you have any skills to defend your lives, I suggest you use them now; we have company incoming!"

Apoch hissed, catching sight of the gigantic bats skimming over the waves headed towards their ship. He grabbed Iscah's arm and bolted for the cargo hold, turning as he stepped back out.

"Stay in there," he explained, shoving the weather-proof doors shut over her with his foot before pulling out his daggers and heading to the bow with the three other adventurers. The orc looked grim but determined, though the human and dwarf both wore the same terrified faces. Apoch turned his attention towards the oncomming threat, his heart sinking when he realized the sheer numbers coming for them and the riders that sat on their backs; Gurubashi trolls.

The first wave broke over the ship, arrows ignited at the last minute before shot into the wood and sails, rendering half the crew useless to defend as they tried to exterminate the fires that had popped up everywhere. Another volley was launched, picking off the crewmembers and passengers alike. Beside him the orc took three to the chest in rapid succession, and the human and dwarf both went down simultaneously with arrows in their backs.

Apoch waited as they circled, hearing his name called out amidst the war cries, the flying warriors turning their attention towards him. They rolled and dove before breaking off at the last minute, the riders leaping off onto the ship as the bats swooped back up into the darkness.

He bared his fangs with a roar, launching onto the first warrior that was ahead of his tribesman, the bone blade cutting through flesh and bone like his body was made of butter. He shrieked with agony as his guts exploded out of the horizontal gash Apoch left across his midsection, but the rogue was already onto the next target, ducking underneath the swing of a mace and swiping a path from hipbone to shoulderblade that all but cut the female in half. Two more jumped into the fray, and he parried their blunt weapons, backing up so that they slipped on the blood that was now slicking the planks.

In the brief glimpse around he managed to take before focusing back on the two that were attacking him as a team he knew they were outnumbered. Waiting for an opening, his blade snaked out past one of their guards and cut through the heavy armor straight into his heart, dropping into a crouch and using his weight to pull the dagger down so that the edge cut all the way to his groin, setting him up to burst back up to slam bodily into the other warrior, stabbing him four times before they even hit the ground. He rolled off the corpse and stood back up, gaze snapping to the cargo entrance when Iscah screamed though there were at least twelve trolls in his way. Bu'u leapt out onto the deck, taking down a massive troll with black braids that fell past his shoulderblades, though the warrior simply rolled with the initial impact, using his legs to shove the raptor up through the air and launch him off the boat before rising smoothly to his feet once more, a few minor cuts from Bu'u's talons all to show for the quick fight. He grabbed Iscah, ignoring the fireblast that singed his shoulder.

Apoch snarled in fury, charging at the trolls blocking his path before skidding to a halt when the male put a dagger to his wife's throat, his cold dark eyes turning to lock onto Apoch in a silent demand.

He weighed his options for a moment before tossing both weapons onto the deck, immediately surrounded and his hands bound behind his back tightly before shoved forward. The leader of the raid let Iscah go and canted his head, looking at the Darkspear that was covered in head to toe with his bretheren's blood before slamming his mace across Apoch's skull with a resounding crack. Iscah choked on a sob as her mate slumped unconscious to the ground, his hair matting black from where the weapon had hit.

The Gurubashi whistled sharply, and the bats descended from the sky, the riders mounting quickly with victory yips. The leader of the group jerked Iscah onto the saddle in front of him before snapping the bat's reigns, and they launched into the air violently. She glanced back at the boat that was burning into the water to catch sight of Bu'u swimming towards shore with powerful strokes of his tail, relieved that he would be alright.

"Why you want us?" She managed after a moment, tensing for an answer though none came from the giant troll holding her. Seaspray from the water they were flying low over chilled her form quickly, and by the time they crossed over the canopy of Stranglethorn she was shivering with hypothermia. If the troll was aware of it, he showed no signs, turning back to bellow in Zandali to his other riders before they banked north. Iscah risked a glance backwards to see Apoch's unconscious form draped across the shoulders of one of the bats, its rider holding him secure.

When Zul'Gurub came into sight her charge gave a deep warcry that vibrated through her form, and they broke over the stone buildings to fly low across the myriad of courtyards, rising once more to come to a landing at a man-made outrcopping where a massive stone alter in the shape of a giant troll curled up on itself was. The warrior jerked her off the saddle in front of him, dragging her to a group of priests. Behind her Apoch snarled, coming to as another of the riders slapped him back into consciousness.

"Welcome to Zul'Gurub," a familiar voice drawled, and Iscah gasped as she realized one of the zealots standing nearby was Triki. He smiled wickedly, sauntering over to her and crouching down beside her when the warrior forced her to her knees.

"Triki? What's happening? Why are we here?"

"Destiny," he drawled back, his grin spreading at the look of horror on the humans face. He rose and motioned to two guards who grabbed either one of her arms, lifting her back to her feet and turning so she faced her lover.

Apoch was glaring at Triki with such a intense hatred that the old Shaman laughed, clapping his hands with delight as he too was lifted off the ground into a standing position, though more guards were holding him in place.

"You traitorous filth," He spat viciously, jerking his arm testingly against the guardsmans grip. High Priestess Jeklik approached him bodly, drawing out a jade dagger and and began cutting his armor off carefully as Triki spoke.

"You have no idea how long we had waited for you both. Nearly two decades slid by after the sign that the son and wellspring were among us, and now we understand why." His attention shifted to Iscah, a hint of affection in his gaze.

"Not just anyone can summon Jin'ral from that dagger. It had to be one of his direct descendants. And so here you are, the host from which our nearly-forgotten god can return through."

"All of this was orchestrated? By you?" Iscah asked, her gaze locking on Apoch's as the ramifications of such a lie meant sank in. She watched his gaze turn distant for a moment before refocusing; even if it had, they were together now and that was all that mattered to the troll.

"Gods, no!" He laughed boisterously, looking between them. "I'm flattered you think I'm that powerful, but no. I'm merely an interpretor to the Gods will. When I had seen your Warlord for the first time I knew he was a piece of it all, but it was you, my dear, who would complete it."

Apoch had stilled, listening to the Shaman's words. The priestess crouched down, slicing his pants away. When her hands touched his loincloth he growled warningly, but she ignored his threat and sawed the knife through the cotton, pulling the fabric away to expose him. She purred appreciatively at the size his limp member, running her fingertips lightly over his balls. Iscah yelled furiously in her language, though the priestess was too enraptured with the heavy genitalia resting on her palm.

Apoch looked down into her seductive eyes when she turned them up to his and spat on her face. Triki laughed at the priestess' humiliation and her cheeks turned red with anger. Wiping the saliva away she wrapped her hand around his length, standing up slowly. The rogue gnashed his teeth, tendons in his neck standing out as he struggled against her magic that was being forced onto him, though she was winning as he swelled. Jeklik smirked, eyes narrowing on the rogue.

"You can't fight the call, no man can. Give in to your lust, troll. It is useless to try to ignore it." The guards shifted their grip on him tighter as he grew rigid, the muscles of his chest and shoulders striating with tension until he finally threw his head back in a ragged scream as he lost control, spurting a single rope of seed. She let go with a triumphant smile, glancing back at Triki.

"He is ready."

"A fine job as always, High Priestess," he responded politely, and she turned her attention back to the rogue as he slumped in the guards grip, flinching as her magic continued to torture him.

"I'd like to see what he can do with that giant cock of his." She mused, eyeing Iscah who was all but spitting with fury.

"Tie him to the alt-" Apoch jerked up, half dragging the guards forward as he launched himself at Jeklik's throat. He sunk his fangs either side of her esophagus and bit down with a sickening crunch, snapping his head at the same moment so that his tusks pierced the side of her neck and slashed through her artery. Blood sprayed as she stumbled back away from the rogue, Triki moving to heal what would've been fatal wounds.

"I told you not to underestimate him, High Priestess," Triki chided, green light rising from his hands to mend her throat. The guards shoved Apoch onto the ground, and he fought them violently until the raid leader that had been watching the whole situation unfurl went to Iscah. He pulled out Apoch's bone blade one of his riders had recovered from the boat and sliced away the humans dress, the girl yelping in panic. Apoch watched with a mixture of terror and fury, but it had the effect the warrior had wanted; he had stopped fighting. He flicked coal black eyes on the Darkspear, half turning so the rogue could see the erection pressing tightly against his rough leather pants.

"You touch her, and I'll show you what real pain feels like." Apoch breathed, his eyes burning with unbridled rage. Triki finished healing Jeklik and went to stand beside Iscah as the warrior reached up and slowly unwound the cloth bindings from her breasts. She gasped when he tore her loincloth away, struggling against the guards who responded by twisting her arms so that she was arched. He raked his eyes down her figure before retreating, Triki smoothing his hand through her hair soothingly before looking to Apoch, eyes narrowing.

"You're going to fuck her on that altar, or I'm going to have every one of these guards do it for you while you watch. Now are you going to behave yourself or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

"Get your hands off her," he replied flatly, and Triki obeyed. She whimpered softly, looking towards her husband. "What is the whole meaning of this?"

The Shaman smirked, holding out his hand and the leader obliged, setting the bone blade into his waiting palm before walking back over to Apoch, cutting off the ropes pinning his arms behind his back.

"You'll see. If you try anything, High Warlord, your wife will be the one that pays. Understand?"

Apoch gave a slight nod, and the guards let him go hesitantly. He rolled onto his back and flexed his hands that had gone numb before standing up, going to his mate. Casting a baleful glare towards the guards that had let her go he covered her nudity with his front, reaching behind her to undo the bindings. Iscah moved closer up against him to try to hide his erection, and he bucked involuntarily as it rubbed against her stomach. He shuddered, losing track of the knots before focusing on them again, breaking her loose. Taking a steadying breath he wrapped his arms around her, if anything to keep her from moving against him any more. His thoughts had turned dark with the raging need coarsing through him, and the scent of the human's fear was making it hard not to just pin her against the stone of the altar and ravage her.

"Iscah, look at me. Iscah," He murmured, pulling her away from him slightly so that she could look up into his gaze. The violent desire was numbed when they locked eyes, but it still lurked in the back of his mind. He cupped her face in his shaking palm, leaning down to nuzzle her forehead with his own.

"We have to do this."

"No, please. No," she whispered, wrapping her hands around his wrists. He felt the darkess creep back up, lips pulling back over his canines for a moment at her plea before reigning himself back in.

"I can't fight this for much longer," he growled, his hand moving from her face into her hair, clentching in her tresses. She let out a helpless sound at the pain and he let go, sweeping her legs out from beneath her and carrying her to the altar. He laid her down as gently as he could, nimbly hopping onto the platform as well and studying her. She had pinned her knees tightly together, her hands wrapped around her breasts to try to cover herself from the eyes of so many watching. There was terror in her gaze when she looked back up from the crowd to her mate, and he looked away with a hiss.

"Can't you do to her what you did to me, Jeklik?"

"I could, but I won't." She responded playfully, and he glared daggers at her. "It is such a beautiful thing, watching you fight your violent nature. What a servant of Hakkar you could be," she breathed, looking over his form that was a tribute to his discipline and training. "Why not just take her? Why not just spill her blood like you want to so badly? It could be just like old times."

"Stop," he replied huskily, breaths uneven as he clamped his eyes shut, reaching blindly forward to push his wife's legs apart and slide his hands down the insides of her thighs, wrapping his fingers around her hipbones so that she couldn't close them again. He felt her muscles contract against his forearms and he rubbed his thumbs against her stomach, squeezing her slightly in warning. Shifting his weight back he leaned down, nuzzling his lips against the small patch of hair above her sex before snaking his tongue out, pushing between her folds to lick the sensitive petals. Iscah inhaled sharply and he let her midsection go, guiding her legs over his shoulders so he could nestle down further and suckle on her delicate flesh, lapping in slow strokes between her netherlips until he began to feel the undercurrent of pleasure he had recognized to be her own.

He shaped his tongue to a sharper point and slid it into her, her hands scrabbling to twist in his hair as he drank her taste with a gutteral sound of delight. She let her legs slide off his back, relieving the pressure his tusks had been putting on the inside of her thighs and lifting her hips into his mouth. Resting his palms beneath her rump when she bucked again he braced her higher, the angle allowing him to reach even deeper until he was stroking the center of pleasure inside her with his tongue, the tip rubbing with such precision against it she came in a matter of moments. Apoch shuddered visibly, extensive amounts pre-cum dripping down his length and soaking his balls. Below them the runes on the stone flared a dull red, Triki murmuring words of encouragement at the first signs of summoning.

The rogue needed no reassurance as he let her settle back onto the stone, crawling closer and reaching down to stroke himself, spreading his wetness across the head until it glistened. Iscah reached out to him and instinctively he snagged her wrist, letting his member go and grabbing her other forearm before pinning them down above her head. He reflected for a moment that this had been the way he had taken her forcefully the first time, and he saw in her gaze that she was thinking the same thoughts. Instead of fear she met his feral stare with calmness, dampening the flames of visciousness.

"I love you," she whispered before tilting her head back as she felt the tip of his member pry her open, exposing her throat to him. He stared down in awe at her absolute trust in his control, sliding in one slow stroke into her until he felt the end of her channel and then pushing farther, forcing her body to stretch until his hips ground against her. She writhed beneath him with a soft moan as he retracted nearly all the way out before sliding into her with a swifter movement, feeling his nearness to climaxing as he released a jet of his essence deep inside of her. Keeping the stokes slow he tormented the both of them, soaked in sweat in by the time he finally couldn't hold back any longer, choking back a snarl as he came inside of her.

It wasn't enough, not even enough. Vaguely aware of the stones glowing red beneath them he pulled out and rolled her onto her side, laying down behind her and lifting her knee to wrap it over his before plunging back into her, his essence running down her leg, puddling in the indentations of the altar. The pace he set was quicker, ignoring the pain in his hip as the stone rubbed his skin raw with the movement, Iscah gasping as his thrusts edged her closer to a second orgasm.

"Yes," he gasped, reaching around her front to squeeze her nipple hard enough to make her cry out. "Come, Iscah. Come for me," he demanded, letting her breast go to reach down and rub her swollen nodes. He began to chant the words against her ear as she stiffened, keeping the pace steady until she screamed, fingers clawing against the stone as she orgasmed. The sensation reverberrated through his body, inundating her core with another small fountain of semen.

He slid off the altar, grabbing her waist when she sat up to move away and pulling her to the edge. She spread her legs apart and looked back over her shoulder to him, the shrine a perfect height for him to be able to stand and thrust into her from behind.

"Stop, Apoch, not like that," she whimpered softly, knowing how brutal he was about to be, and he complied to that assumption, his first stab powerful enough to cause her to scream. She tried to relieve the pressure of her body unable to stretch for him in this pose by leaning forward but he held her firmly in place, slamming into her until she was crying out with every impalement.

"You're not helping," he managed through clenched teeth, his grip on her tightening to the point his fingertips left bruises on her skin. Iscah bit her lower lip to try to stop the vocal responses to his abuse, but only succeeded in muting the sound. His breaths quickened, moving one hand into her hair and jerking her back so she was arched tightly. His roar as he came was muted against her skin, sinking his fangs deep into her flesh at the base of her neck. Blood poured out to rain down onto the altar, a small stream of the red liquid trickling down between her breasts and running down her leg. Apoch ignored her cries of pain as he drank deeply, spasming from the sensory overload.

Triki nodded to the guards, and they launched themselves onto the rogue, tearing him away from Iscah. He fought with renewed hatred, but they overpowered him and pulled his arms taut. The dark-eyed warrior grabbed Iscah as she stumbled to aid Apoch, holding her back as the shaman neared.

"No!" Iscah cried, Apoch's eyes widening as the shaman drove the bone dagger into his exposed chest.

"JIN'RAL! YOU ARE RELEASED!" Jeklik shrieked, raising her hands up ceremoniously. Apoch's scream was mortal, but deepened into something unnatural, the ground shaking as the magical tension in the air began to collapse in on the troll. There was a moment where everything seemed to stop, and then the power released, blowing back everyone dozens of feet away from the darkspear troll. Iscah was tossed like a ragdoll into a grove of bamboo, pain errupting from her side as she crashed into the stalks.


	23. Chapter 23

After the explosion there was an ominous silence, pervaded only by the monotone ring in her ears. It took Iscah a moment to realize that she had lost her hearing momentarily, not that the world had fallen still. Opening her eyes she pushed herself up onto locked arms, looking around in shock at the bodies that had been tossed like rag-dolls across the pavilion, some lying at unnatural angles. Only one was left standing, and when her eyes came to rest on him she could feel the hackles on the back of her neck rise.

It was no longer Apoch that stood at the altar, but a different being altogether. Nearly ten feet tall the troll stood with his shoulders back and posture proud, his thick mane of hair that hung well past his exposed backside shimmering gold in the dappled light. Two new sets of arms just as muscular as the original ones had grown in to hinge beneath his armpits worked independently of each other, and he studied them for a moment before dropping his gaze to the blade jutting from his chest. There was an obscene squelch as he pulled it out to examine the dull grey hull of the weapon before tossing it aside, looking back up to the human girl. Even though it was Apoch's face there were still changes, and as he approached and knelt before her she could see his tusks had taken on the luster of mother-of-pearl, and skin a darker cobalt than her mates had been.

"My Iscah," he murmured, the deep voice that had been the same as the one that had come from the dagger causing her to shudder. Gentle hands wrapped around her and lifted her out of the debris she had been flung into, nestling her against an expanse of chest far greater than before.

"Apoch? What happened?"

"I am no longer that mortal," he replied gently. "Now I am something far greater; Jin'ral." Setting her carefully onto the altar his gaze slipped across her naked figure before resting on her face, Iscah aware of the tender affection the god seemed to have for her.

"I have come back to this world to be with you, to cleanse and rebuild it, like had been done so long ago. History has forgotten I was the sire of the night elf race, but they will remember it soon enough. And you?" He reached down to stroke her cheek soothingly with a massive hand, his eyes darkening from crimson to brick red with desire. "You will be the great-mother, just like your Vrykul ancestor had been."

"My lord!" Jeklik interrupted, having come to. Stumbling out of the brush she caught herself on a bamboo stalk, shaking her head clear and gathering her bearings before looking back at Jin'ral as he turned slowly to face her. "Why would you settle for such a weak, incompetent child. Would you not rather have someone who understands you? Someone more experienced?"

He moved away from Iscah towards the priestess, the female running her hands over her curves enticingly before tilting her head towards him. "She is unworthy of you, her body already giving life to your hosts seed. But I am untainted, fit to be by your side as you remake this world into the great troll empire it once was."

Jin'ral snaked all six arms around her body, pulling her against him and leaning down to take a deep inhale of her scent. She canted her head away as he ran the back of his tusks down her neck, drawing his lips back and sinking his fangs into her flesh. She flinched, eyes growing wide as she realized he had her locked in his grip, unable to escape.

"Her blood is like nectar, and yours?" He replied, lifting his head away from the two wounds seeping blood.

"Ash in comparison." Jeklik's scream rose into an agonized wail, her skin smoking as it shriveled and then caught on fire, the flames blazing across her body and turning it black before that too turned into powdery grey ash that snowed down onto the ground, Jin'ral not even singed. He dusted off his arms and stomach lightly, turning back to the girl and touching her wounds carefully. Her collision into the wall though cushioned by the guards body had still managed to crack a few ribs along with mild scratches and deep bruises, but they were simple fixes. Green light rose to trail along his six hands before he pressed them against her form, warmth seeping through her flesh and mending it. When his work was done he cocked his head to the side, gaze distant as if he were listening to an internal conversation.

"This host hates me for even looking at you let alone touching you, it's interesting to feel his rage. I do not remember being aware of their presence the last time, but that was eons ago." Iscah didn't move, instead turned to study the djinn closely. Was he like some sort of parasite? Biting her lip she took his moment of distraction to close her eyes and focus on him with her magical vision. The radiations of energy blinded her instantly as if she was looking into the sun, but she gritted her teeth and kept her gaze on him, watching the tendrils of power bloom out from the center of his chest. Jin'ral had melded with his body, as if he had always been part of it, the magic and flesh joined as a whole being. Triki had said Apoch had been part of the puzzle, that must have been what he meant. It must have been her blood that was the key and Apoch the body to the god. So how to undo it?

"He had denied his attraction to you for so long," he purred, her train of thought broken when his fingers that had been resting began to move across her skin. Looking back up to his gaze she felt his six hands explore her body, two of them cupping her breasts in their palms and kneading them slowly, using the ridge of his thumb muscles to tease the nipples hard. "Did you know that if Nezrial had succeeded in killing you, it would've killed him too? Such is the price of being soulbound to your mate. Though his initial unwillingness to accept you makes my blood simmer I am grateful he finally came to love you as deeply as I do."

"What do you mean soulbound? Did that have something to do with the rituals Triki performed on us?" She squirmed slightly beneath his palms, uncomfortable with the feeling of three sets of hands on her body, let alone the fact his caresses were bringing a rush of heat through her body as if responding to Apoch's touch.

"Triki's ceremony did nothing, the binding was long before that; thousands of years ago actually. The easiest way to explain it is that the time when your soul and a worthy host would finally be in the same time frame together was as rare as certain alignments of stars."

"Is that why he has survived this long?"

Jin'ral dipped his head to the side in a shrug, obviously not interested in talking about Apoch. "With any diety's blessing, a being becomes harder to kill. Now my consort, it is time for me to cleanse you of his imperfection and so that we can create the new race together."

"Wait," she replied, reaching up to rest her hands on top of the ones on her breasts. "You've seen his memories. You know how shameful my first time with him had been, how I had been taken like a victim rather than a bride. I would ask of you a better place than on this altar, a place worthy of our consummation."

"Ah, it is so little to ask for, and far greater do you deserve." He let her go, walking to the edge of the platform and surveyed the rough-cut stones that littered the ruins of what had been the center of the gurubashi empire. Lifting his hands the sky darkened, dampened by the power he slowly unleashed. The earth responded, rubble and dust sucking back onto rocks, rewinding the process of decay until giant blocks of stone were whole once more, rolling of their own accord and stacking atop one another. Trees and plants wiggled free, creeping on their roots around the buildings that had begun to piece themselves into massive structures and form gardens at their bases and in their tiers.

Iscah watched entranced for a moment before her eyes slid to the dagger resting on the ground beside the altar. Risking one glance to Jin'ral who's back was to her she reached down and picked it up, biting the inside of her lip. Hopping into a crouch she looked at the gods back, her heart pounding audibly in her ears despite the roar of the earth as it shaped itself to his desire.

The price was him. Was her. Was their child. But this god unleashed on the world would destroy it. She had seen the same look zealousness before, and knew Jin'ral would destroy everything so that he could rebuild it to his tastes. Gathering her focus she launched herself at him with a cry, the god turning as quickly as Apoch would've and snagged her forearms, jerking her off her feet and shoving her to the ground. Iscah sat up as he laughed chidingly, amusement in his eyes.

"You would sacrifice yourself? To save this world that has no place for you?"

"I would," was her shaky reply, grip on the dagger tightening. He tisked at her with a shake of his head.

"That useless weapon can do me no harm, just as no one can do you any harm. This host did his best to protect you, but ultimately he was destined to fail as a mortal. My power has no limits," he explained, spreading his arms and motioning to the creation that was happening around them. "With me there is nothing to fear Iscah."

"Nothing?" She pressed, mind working furiously. "Not even Thrall?"

"You mock me!" He laughed, stepping closer to her. Iscah recoiled, but he merely reached down to extend a hand to her. She took it hesitantly and he pulled her back up to her feet. "Let me show you."

The landscape shimmered, blurring as the colors ran together and bled, greens giving way to golds and reds before clearing again. Iscah looked up at the stone entrance of Ogrimmar before her gaze fell on the dozens of horde who had been sparring at the gates. The matches came to an utter halt, all attention turning to the Djinn and his human.

Iscah clutched the dagger to her chest self-consciously, looking down when she heard the chime of metal. Her hips had been draped in a storm grey silk, the material falling down to the ground to cover her feet. Silver threads shaped in organic patterns linked to make a chain around her waist that the material was attached to. The same style of jewelry dotted her wrists and arms, along with a matching necklace that draped across her exposed breasts. She took a step back as the tension in the air became almost tangible, wide hues slipping to Jin'ral who was staring at the mob with a baiting smile.

A rogue finally broke the standoff, ambushing Iscah from behind but his daggers never made it; instead the orc screamed in pain as a red orb flashed around the mage, incinerating his hands and forearms instantly, the blood cauterized at the stubs for arms he was left with. Iscah met his shocked stare with her own before he stumbled away, Jin'ral laughing at the rogue's misfortune.

"Do you see? You have nothing to fear anymore. You can walk among the most hated of enemies unscathed."

"Don't!-"

Jin'ral waved his hand out casually, screams cut short as all that were alive disintegrated into ash. Iscah exhaled shakily, looking around in horror at the silent landscape, tears stinging her eyes.

"My little lamb, do not mourn their passing. Beauty shall replace the void they have left, I promise." Iscah didn't move when he headed towards the gates, and he turned to look back at her patiently.

"Come, Iscah. It is time to begin culling the world."


	24. Chapter 24

Really, **REALLY** rough draft, but I had to start with something to try to finish this story. Updates will be posted on this chapter for sure, but for all you people who have been waiting I wanted to get it out there for you. Thanks for your patience! As always, comments/critiques would be mad helpful. :3

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Iscah swayed, sickened by the instant loss of life she had just witnessed. Teetering unsteadily she moved to Jin'ral, taking his hand when he offered it with glazed eyes. The guards were already missing at the cavernous entrance, but she could hear the bellows of orders and screams of panic breaking out at the other end.

When they stepped out into the main courtyard of the city there was an army already amassing to meet them, Thrall and Vol'jin standing side by side in front of the growing mob of guards and warriors. The Warchief's storm grey eyes slid to Iscah, and to the girl it felt like his gaze pierced her very soul. Vol'jin murmured something to the Warchief as attention shifted to her as well, though Thrall shook his head in response before giving an answer. Iscah's vision of the orc blurred with her tears before she looked away miserably.

"Greetings, Thrall, son of Durotan," Jin'ral began, his resonating voice lilting with amusement.

"Why have you come, demon?" Thrall queried, speaking in common so that Iscah could understand.

"So straight to the point," he surmised, brows raising with his smirk as he also switched to the humans language. "I am here to wipe this city off the face of my world."

"You will die for speaking such treason," Vol'jin snarled in Zandali. Jin'ral turning his attention to the Darkspear.

"So speaks the fearless leader of a clan that would be dead were it not for outsiders help. How does it feel to be so weak that you are the dog of an orc, Vol'_jin_?"

"No!" Thrall barked, Vol'jin firing a volley of arrows at Iscah in his fury. The force field flared an angry orange with each impact of the missiles, Jin'ral looking to the other troll who wasn't hiding his surprise very well at all when his attack proved fruitless.

Iscah could feel the current of rage swell around her, the power making it difficult to breathe as Jin'ral took a slow step forward. "You would attack my mate before even attacking me? What cowardice."

Baring his fangs the soft snarl in the back of his throat began to rise in tone until it became a deafening roar, the earth shaking violently beneath them. Iscah covered her ears when the sound became unbearable, dropping to her knees when the ground buckled, fissures cracking around them and splintering out. Behind her the rock face split, a cloud of dust spewing out from the opening before it separated and began taking the shapes of massive wolves.

The pack descended on the horde, Thrall calling out in orcish and the elements responded, a furious wind knocking over a few of his guards as it whipped through the animated dust, disintegrating them before they could reach his army.

Jin'ral laughed venomously, the cracked earth breaking down into rubble before reforming into rock beings nearly twenty feet tall, weapons slicing through the dirt doing little to damage them as they swung the boulders for arms through the masses, knocking bodies through the air like golf balls.

"Stop!" Iscah screamed, but it was lost in the rise of voices and the madness of battle. Jin'ral stepped forward, watching with an easy smile as Thrall's magic users set flame to the monsters in a desperate attempt to destroy them, instead only turning their forms molten. With their attention on the fight at hand only a handful were aware that the sky had begun to steadily darken, tendrils of white magic glimmering to life in the heavens before twisting in on one another to form larger entities. The flock of hundreds descended suddenly and closer now they became visible as translucent sky snakes, breathing bolts of power that picked up speed as they fell to the earth and exploded on impact.

Thrall launched himself out of the fray of minions, charging for the Djinn with a blood curdling roar. Jin'ral stepped forward to meet his challenge, darkness gathering at his hands before forming into weapons that were shapeless. They seemed to absorb everything around them, making it impossible to stare at their shimmering existence without the sensation of blurred vision.

When Thralls axe impacted them there was a surge of light, the rays refracting before collapsing in trembling arcs into Jin'ral's weapons. The orc swung again much more quickly than Iscah would've thought possible but the troll parried, sliding back a few feet when Thrall released a ball of electrical power directly into his chest.

Jin'ral spread his arms wide, exposing the smoking flesh of his muscles, the wound completely healed in a matter of seconds. Thrall crouched down low, jaw setting before launching himself again at Jin'ral, pushing him back towards Iscah.

Iscah's eyes widened, realizing what the Warchief was doing. Looking down at the dagger she was still clutching she pressed it to her forearm, taking a deep breath before running the edge against her skin. Exhaling sharply she looked down, heart sinking when she realized it hadn't even nicked her. It was utterly blunt, the magic that had given it a lethal edge long usurped. She felt the panic rise before looking down at the flecks of dried blood that wended up her form, poking at the base of her neck to try to find the wounds, only to remember he had healed them shut.

Without hesitation she grabbed the hilt, stabbing the tip of the blade into the side of her leg with a muted shriek. Her hands were shaking as she rubbed the freely flowing blood over the angles of the blade until it was coated, looking back up as the troll and orc continued their deadly dance closer and closer to her.

One of Jin'ral's blades swung over Thrall's head, and he ducked it instinctively, voice booming over the roar of battle as he called on the elements again. Roots sprang up out of the ground and snaked around Jin'ral, binding his arms to his sides. He looked down with a mocking laugh before his gaze moved to the gasping Warchief.

"Are you really serious?"

"Now, Iscah!"

Iscah shifted her grip on the weapon, launching herself at Jin'ral once again. Though the dagger was blunt against her skin it pierced his all too easily, and she forced it down to the hilt in the center of his back without any resistance.

Jin'ral's head snapped back at impact, massive canines visible as he roared in pain. The roots receded and he collapsed onto his knees, the putrefied grey tone of the dagger giving way to opalescent white as it absorbed the diety's power back into itself. The troll swayed off-balance, crashing onto his side as the entities he had formed vanished or disintegrated, the sky remaining dark still. Iscah knelt next to him, lifting his head into her lap and brushing the fiery hair away from his face, his eyes rolling up to hers.

"I'm so proud of you," he murmured, the undertones of the djinn gone, leaving Apoch's raspy voice in its place. Iscah heaved a sob, curling up so that she could press her face against his, her tears burning against her skin.

"This was an honorable way to die."

"Yes," she replied, feeling the first pangs of emptiness begin to carve into her chest as her mate's eyelids flickered lower. "Apoch? Don't leave me, please don't go. Apoch? Apoch!"

There were voices around her, panicked ones, but they made no sense. Her head was light and she clutched onto him tighter to try to stop the world from tilting, her lungs burning as if she was submerged underwater. Power compressed around the troll the human was cradling, literally drowning the girl in energy. Her vision went white as the dagger glowed brighter than the sun, and then the darkness came.


	25. Chapter 25

Furious voices along with crashes of metal and bodies woke Iscah up, her surroundings a blur for a few seconds as she blinked her eyes back into focus. The light was dim, a few sparse torches barely enough to illuminate what had to be a prison. Her cell was three walls of smooth stone, a vanity with a wooden bowl of fresh water and a privy next to it. She sat up on the cot lumpy with fresh hay, cringing when she caught the rancid smell of bodies that hadn't had baths for weeks.

An orc went flying past the bar cells in front of her, Apoch flashing into view at the door, picking with frantic speed even though his face was blank. He glanced up as another guard barrelled at him, bracing himself on the bars and kicking his foot out sideways to catch the male in the gut, doubling him over as he came to a halt wrapped around the trolls heel.

The lock clicked and he jerked the door open, slamming it shut behind him as four more guards appeared with weapons drawn.

"Dogg, zug ha no'ku zaga nogu kazum!" One bellowed, spitting with rage at the troll. Apoch held up a ring with keys on it, shaking it so it gave a jingle.

"Re'ka regas ogar ha golar 'l ka ha magan," he replied back tauntingly, the orc's face turning a questionable shade of purple before he slammed his mace against the bars and stalked off. The three others behind him followed after a moment of staring at the High Warlord with expressions ranging from amusement to dismay.

Exhaling shakily he turned and collapsed onto his knees by her cot, gathering her in his arms and burying his face against her shoulder. She hiccuped a sob, twisting her fingers into his hair painfully tight.  
"How? How? You die, I see it!"

"Nothing so dramatic," he replied, voice gruff with emotion. "I passed out when you forced the Djinn back into the dagger. Are you alright?"

She shook her head in response, too choked up to give any sort of decent answer. He lifted her off the flimsy bed and sat down on it, cradling her in his lap comfortingly as she wept against his chest. When she had cried herself down to sniffles he stayed quiet, enjoying their reunion despite the fact some of the bolder inmates in other cells had begun jeering at them in obscene tones. Apoch ignored them, trailing his fingertips through her mussed hair gently.

The steady pulse of his heart and woosh of his breath against her ear she was resting on lulled her into a light sleep, jerking awake when someone banged sharply against the bars.  
Apoch eased her out of his lap and rose when they unlocked the gate, casually placing himself between the guards and his mate. Iscah smoothed out the rough linen shirt someone had been kind enough to dress her in, glancing down at the skirts of grey silk that was stiff with splatters of dried blood.

The guards snarled a order to him in orcish an he nodded in response, glancing down to Iscah and jerking his head in their direction.

Their escort lead them through the hallways cramped even by the humans standards, the cells a veritable maze. Iscah was shocked that the troll had even been able to find her in the labyrinth. They finally reached a stairwell, ascending out of the overwhelming odor of humans pressed in cramped, filthy quarters and into the fresh arid heat of the desert. She covered her eyes as they stepped out into the piercing daylight, the troll's shadow blocking out the sun as she caught the sound of murmurs.

Peeping her eyes open there was a crowd waiting for them outside the prison, a hushed silence falling over them at the sight of the two before an orc bellowed furiously, the mob erupting into screams and jeers.  
Someone threw a rock and Apoch caught it deftly, launching it back at the offender with enough speed to knock the Tauren out cold. If it was any other situation Iscah might have laughed at the comic way the warrior's head thumped back on impact before the rest of his rigid body followed, but the retaliation only seemed to feed the crowd's rage.

A female orc shoved past the guards with murder in her eyes for the rogue, but the sentinels beat her back with their blunt maces less than gently. More guards rushed out from the prison behind them, mayhem ensuing as the mob turned on their own.

Apoch pushed Iscah back down the stairs, her attention shifting to his hand when she glimpsed the faintest luminescent glow, Jin'ral's dagger forming in his grasp out of nothingness though he kept it out of sight pressed against the back of his leg. Iscah stared in surprise at the weapon before flinching as a rotten tomato exploded on the flagstone nearby, spraying her with bits of fetid vegetable bits.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The cacophony died instantly under the powerful, demanding voice, crowds parting as an orc dressed in wickedly spiked plate armor approached the center of the debacle. Iscah heard Apoch take a short, nervous breath, his defensive crouch lowering more in an almost submissive posture. The orc's fierce glare went from the crowds to the troll before finally resting on her. The mage could feel her limbs run cold under the weight of his gaze, Apoch frozen in place until the warrior motioned for them to follow.

He pulled her up by the elbow with the same hand moments before had been holding the dagger, placing her ahead of himself as they followed the towering figure down the wide road that had been carved into the ledge. Horde pressed at them from both sides, and Iscah took the chance to study the other trolls gawking at the sidelines.

If she had thought Apoch had been tall, she was mistaken. He was easily a foot shorter than most of the ones she was glimpsing, though all their heights varied to some degree. His tusks were also smaller, as if underdeveloped. It occurred to her in that moment both might have been stunted when he was younger due to malnutrition or lack of sleep. When she realized what she was thinking about instead of what was going to happen to them she exhaled a sardonic, muted laugh.

The road became narrow as it wound into the canyon, fiery walls rising around them like a natural-made cathedral. There were less bystanders here simply because of room; very few could get out of the way for their guide's impressive form. The path sloped down and curved, opening up again though Apoch stayed behind her just in case someone decided to attack.

When the passage-way opened up into a secondary courtyard Iscah stopped, staring at a massive baobab tree that had died and been painted and decorated to resemble a dragonkin. Apoch nudged her and she caught up with their escort when he stepped into a building built into the sandstone. Even without military experience, she could tell this was some sort of headquarters. Hushed conversations of officials died as all eyes turned to the two, the human lowering her gaze with embarrassment at being paraded like a spectacle.

When they entered the chamber of Thrall she couldn't help but look around, taking in the room decorated with spartan furniture wrought of simple materials and the guards that were just as still as the furnishings. Her scan ended with Thrall as the other orc stepped up on the dais to stand next to the crude throne, the orc of legend meeting her gaze with a gentleness she hadn't expected from him.

"Welcome little hero." Iscah couldn't believe the sound of his voice. If Apoch's was deep, this was endless. It was the sound of the earth shifting and raging rivers. It held the promise of the elements eagerness to rise to its call. It held power. "I'm sorry your accommodations weren't better suited for you, but we thought it the safest place."

"It was fine," she murmured, shifting uneasily before remembering her manners and curtsying to him clumsily. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile though the orc beside him made a disgusted sound.

"You've met Varok Saurfang," he continued, motioning to the orc who had mastered his face to a deep scowl. "I'm sure you remember Vol'jin, as well."

When she shifted her attention to the Shadow Hunter she felt her heart stutter, the troll not even bothering to mask his hostility.

"Spirits be with you, Vol'jin," Apoch murmured, bowing gracefully towards his leader. Vol'jin's lip curled in contempt as he looked to his tribesman, though the rogue kept his eyes downcast. Iscah glanced to her mate, noting the light was flickering off sweat on his skin.

"It seems we have a problem," Thrall stated, leaning forward slightly and folding his palms together as he rested them on his thighs. "It's not everyday a human comes walking into my city and save it. I could send you back to your people I suppose," he trailed off, watching her eyes grow wide in terror at the prospect. "Or I could keep you here as an honored guest. I have need of individuals as special as you, as brave as you are."

"I-.. I wasn't brave, Sir. I had baited Jin'ral to come here, had hoped-"

"I know, Iscah. The spirits told me. You could not have done it by yourself, just like I could not have either. It was quite clever of you."

She looked down bashfully, murmuring a thank you and wishing she could somehow vanish.

"Both of you can help me in wa-"

"Hold on dere, Trall." Vol'jin interrupted, stepping forward. Beside her Apoch became stone still. "De human be your realm, but de troll is under my rule. What he do, it treacherous, mon." His eyes slid to the rogue, drawing out the conviction in his word. "Unforgeevable."

"He is still a member of the Horde, Vol'jin."

"But 'is blood be Darkspear."

Thrall leaned back in his throne. "What sentence would you pass on him?"

"Death."

"No!" Iscah shrieked, Apoch grabbing her before she could throw herself at the Shadow Hunter. "He is good troll, honorable! Why kill?"

"You taught this alliance whore Zandali?" Vol'jin bellowed, switching to his native tongue as well.

"She is my wife," Apoch snarled back despite his apprehension, regretting it instantly when he saw the bloodlust rise in his leaders eyes.

Vol'jin roared in fury, snagging the double-bladed glaive off his back and lunging for the two. Iscah snaked out of her mate's grasp, twisting so that she was standing in front of Apoch to block the hunter's attack with her own body. He screamed, voice cracking in terror as the glaive swept wide and descended for his mage.

Iscah squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst though behind her she felt the strike reverberate against Apoch, the clang of metal on something organic stopping the attack. Vol'jin's eyes were wide in disbelief as he stepped back, staring at the edge of his weapon; there was a chunk missing, a crack at the base cutting across the edge perpendicular all the way to the other side. Apoch shoved Iscah forcefully to the ground, cowering over her and keeping the bone blade out and arched over her form defensively.

"No way mon, I saw Trall destroy dat ting."

"Now do you see why I said 'both' initially, Vol'jin?"

"Dat weapon be bad mojo, War Chief. Very dangerous Loa locked up in dere."

"I control it now," Apoch replied, staying in Zandali so that Iscah could understand. He crushed the blade in his hand, spreading his palm open for them to see it empty before flicking his wrist, the blade whipping back into existence with a flash of red from the swinging tail of hair.

"It's part of him now," Thrall explained. "A powerful spirit bound to a mortal. It has it's implications, large ones at that for us."

Vol'jin considered what his War Chief was offering, re-sheathing his glaive after glancing at the fissure angrily. "He won't keel dem now dat he's ruttin' with one of dere females. Will you, Apoch?"

Apoch hesitated, standing up slowly when he surmized the danger had passed. "I just want to take my wife somewhere safe and raise our child. We will live as outcasts, far away to be forgotten by everyone-"  
Thrall shook his head, Apoch's words trailing off. "That will not do. Iscah." The girl looked between the troll's legs to the War Chief, biting her lower lip nervously.

"Will you forsake your people? Will you swear your life to the Horde, to me?"

"Sir, I did that already when I accepted Apoch as my husband."

Thrall smiled slightly, gesturing her to rise. "You swore yourself to our High Warlord, not to his War Chief. I would ask that of you now."

She looked to Apoch for an answer, but he wore a helpless look on his face. The troll knew the orc had him at a loss. If she didn't swear herself to him then she would be killed. But to do it would mean to be in the service of Thrall. There would be no peace for them. Taking a deep breath she stepped away from Apoch and went to kneel before the throne.

"Lok'tar ogar!"

"Victory, or death," Apoch translated somberly as she repeated the words, his voice quiet enough not to echo in the room. "I give my flesh and blood freely to the War Chief, I am the instrument of his desire, the weapon at his command. From this moment on, I live and die for the Horde."

She heard Thrall rise, his steps clinking the jet black plate armor together before he came to a halt before her. She felt his hand on her shoulder, heavy and light at the same time.

"Rise Iscah. You and your mate will take residency in my city in the Valley of Honor. He will teach you orcish, and you will teach him your tongue. When your child is born you will return to me to be the Voice of Your People. The voice of the Horde."

The mage bowed low and Thrall let his hand fall away at the gesture, smiling to her when she looked back up to him before returning to her mate. Apoch collapsed to his knees, touching his forehead to the ground.

"Thank you," he whispered, turning and touching his forehead in Vol'jin's direciton as well. The hunter watched quietly, his facial expressions revealing his doubts on Thrall's decision. "Thank you both."

"Learn well, High Warlord. Your task will not be an easy one."

Apoch nodded, rising smoothly before taking Iscah's hand and walking back out. They passed into the sunlight of midday and he stopped, straightening his back and stretching as he turned his head up to into the warm rays appreciatively.

"I didn't think we'd come out alive."

Iscah didn't respond, face dark with her thoughts before turning indigo hues to him. "I was very scared."

"You did it, you saved us both and found us a home," he replied, cupping her cheek in his hands before laughing softly at the irony. "I thought I was going to be the one to find us a place to live."

His relief was infectious and she returned his smile, eyes closing as he leaned down to nuzzle her gently.

Everything was going to be alright.


	26. Epilogue

A lot of people have asked if this really is the end of the story for Iscah and Apoch. For this book it is! I still have a lot to add and edit to what I have posted, but I do have a second book in mind though I can give no release date at the moment for it. I can however give a sneak peek on what's to come. If you have ideas or critiques as always please let me know. Thanks again for taking the time to read :3

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Her husbands furious roar woke her up and sent adrenaline rushing through her limbs instantly. In the near darkness of the room Iscah tumbled out of bed and felt her way to the dresser, knocking over the candle she had been searching for which fell to the floor with a dull thud.

It would be all but impossible to get on her knees and back up again with her still-growing belly, so she abandoned the idea of light and reached into the top drawer beneath her clothes where a dagger her husband had given her was hidden. Below her she heard him scream a curse, the house vibrating as something heavy impacted it and sent pots and pans clanking noisily across the stone tile of their kitchen.

Clutching the dagger to her chest she waddled down the circular staircase, supporting herself against the wall as she took them as quickly as possible, stopping at the corner to peer into the open lower floor that made their den and kitchen.

Apoch stood near the island hearth, breathing heavily as he glared at something on the floor with utter hatred. His azure skin was opalescent with sweat, and even his hair he had cropped to just below his shoulders was darkened with it. Around him the room was in total disarray; dishes were shattered and expensive goods he had managed to procure from alliance trading posts were in ruin, even some of the metal pans were bent and lying on the now-chipped floor. Dropping down he picked up a gigantic mace with one hand, pausing when he was unable to lift it to grab it with both.

It was carved of bone, the long hilt wrapped in old leather and oval head covered in runes- the same runes that covered the dagger he could summon up. At the heel of the mace a thick tail of red hair swung on a small chain.

His muscles flexed to the point of striation as he focused on the weapon, gritting his teeth and bearing down in concentration until he was trembling. When nothing happened he exhaled a snarl, hefting the mace up and swinging it against his body weight before letting it fly across the room, plaster exploding from the wall as it struck.

Watching the missile's trek took her gaze to the two sentinels who were at the doorway with axes sheathed, amusement lighting their faces as they watched the older troll throw a temper tantrum. The orc's attention remained on Apoch, though the troll guard glanced to Iscah to make sure she was alright before nodding to her shortly. She bobbed her head to him before stepping out of the hallway and in plain sight of her husband who was supporting himself on the island counter, physically spent.

"He mocks me!" He screeched, pointing accusingly at the benign mace lying on the floor. Iscah blinked, looking from it back to her husband.

"Jin'ral? That's the dagger?"

"Was."

"You can't change it back?"

His glare shifted to her instead, and she lifted her palms up innocently. He dismissed the guards with a curt snarl, not bothering to watch them leave their doorstep to take their positions.

Iscah waddled over to the mace and inched down the wall to touch the heft, trying to feel out the magic in the weapon. Jin'ral was still alive though enslaved to her mortal companion, but beneath her fingers she could feel the loa's energy pulse in gentle response to her coaxing. Her persuasions proved useless, however, and the weapon remained the giant mace radiating love for the mage.

"You can wield it though, can't you?"

"I can barely lift it with one arm let alone fight with two. It's too slow and cumbersome."

"So learn."

He snorted derisively at his wife's ignorance, picking up the pitcher he had managed not to break and drink the water straight from it. The mace vanished as he turned back, walking over to her to help her stand back up straight. Settling a hand on her convex belly he paused, a smile quirking up around his small tusks.

"I woke you or did he?"

"You did, and we still don't know if it's a son," she retorted back, slapping his hand aside to head back for the stairs. He followed close behind to help her up the steps and back into bed before curling against her, kneading her lower back gently to help ease the ache her pregnancy was causing. Iscah hummed in appreciation, drifting back off to sleep quickly under his ministrations. When her breaths were deep and even he slipped back out of bed, picking up the candle and setting it back on the wardrobe before heading back downstairs and out the door.

Dawn was still hours away but his old habits of training had not changed, even if he had settled down to the temporary domestic life in the quieter quarters of Orgrimmar. Bu'u gurgled a greeting to him as he stepped out into the arid, cramped courtyard, and he slapped his shoulder warmly before heading towards the gate, the raptor falling in step behind him.

There was a new set of guards already on duty at the gates of his homes, and he nodded to them in passing before mounting Bu'u bareback. Kicking his heels into his side the raptor bolted, knowing the way out of the city without any input from his rider. Apoch had found a secluded beach to practice on, and it had become part of his daily routine to run the raptor there to keep him in shape as well.

After all, Thrall had plans for them once his baby was born.

A deep shudder ran through the troll at the thought, worry creasing his brow. Would the Academy come to collect their debt from him? Apoch secretly hoped that among all the many women he had been with in the past, one of them had birthed a bastard for them to claim. If not, then Thrall would be the least of their worries. It was one thing to promise a firstborn when you were young and focused only on a beautiful death, but now with Iscah in her third trimester the dread and nightmares had made sleeping impossible. Sensing his masters mood Bu'u picked up the pace, throwing the rogue off his back as he rounded a corner and slid to a stop before he could crash into the orc barring his path.

Apoch hit the ground and rolled to his feet gracefully, dropping into a crouched defensive stance with his lone dagger drawn and canines bared at the silhouetted figure.

The male moved forward into the dim light of the torches, blue-grey eyes glittering with amusement at the trolls response.

"Thrall!" His posture changed into a respectful bow, looking back up to the Warchief and switching from Zandali to Orcish. "I didn't expect-"

"Walk with me."

Apoch nodded, sheathing his dagger and snapping his fingers to Bu'u who fell in step behind them.

"I received word of the incident in your house this morning."

"Ah, yes," Apoch replied, scratching at his scalp. "I be sorry if I gave dem guards a scare."

"I'm sure they appreciated the entertainment. I've heard there haven't been any attempts on your or Iscah's life since the public execution of Nedivah."

"No mon, an for that I be grateful," he replied sincerely, any feelings for his ex-betrothed long gone.

"Still though, the spirits tell me of great unrest. How is your wife doing with her pregnancy?"

"De midwives say it will be a big baby, dunno how her leetle body will take it. I worry for her."

"But your fears go deeper than that."

Apoch didn't respond to the probing statement, Thralls gaze sliding to the troll for a moment before looking ahead of them again.

"I can't protect you and your family if I don't know what is coming."

"I can handle it," Apoch replied softly, looking back to his Warchief. There was a moment of silence between the two as they walked the early morning streets of Thralls city.

"Secrets from the past isn't what I came to talk of, though," Thrall continued. "Jin'ral's presence has begun to change you, and the weapons new form is just the tip of the iceberg. I think for the safety of my people you begin to learn the ways of the spirits."

Apoch stopped in his tracks, Thrall turning to look at him. "No, no way mon. The blades and shadows be my way, not voodoo."

"If you stay ignorant to the signs it could cost us all, not just you. I'm not giving you a choice in this matter, Apoch. I can't afford to have Jin'ral freed again in this world. It is time for you to become a Shaman."


End file.
